Charlotte King, Sexologist
by divalicious2
Summary: Charlotte King is now a practicing Sexologist. Let's just say Cooper wasn't entirely wrong when he summed up Charlotte's new job description. Again, the things I've learned about this profession just...wow. Lurkers, get your rears in gear and out of the woodwork.
1. Chapter 1

I'm saying right now that I might re-write this chapter. I wanted to get something down and see what you all think. And yes, an element of this story was suggested to me by a reader. I liked the idea, thought it was different. So I went with it. However that meant I had to research a few things, and I learned more stuff along the way. All that is going into this story. Kind of took a little grain of sand and turned it into...well, something. I think it's a little wordy, but you all know how I am. And I'm not sure about having Charlotte thinking to herself- I might take that out. Okay have at and tell me if you like it or not- and yeah you can suggest stuff too.

Charlotte stood casually at the front desk, nonchalantly eyeing all the people waiting. Trying to pick out her patients before she called them was a little game she liked to play sometimes- and only sometimes. Quite frankly, there were more freaks coming in to see her like she was some freak than actual patients, and with that it was always men. Her first patient today was a woman.

Granted, when she said freak about anyone she bypassed the fact that between the sheets she could very easily be considered a freak- though she didn't care for that term. Freak implied that there was something wrong with you- and what the hell was wrong with sex? Especially good sex? And the fact that she happened to be good at sex? Nothing. When she called someone a freak, it meant that there _was_ something wrong with them. And the freaks that had come to see her voluntarily? They really were freaks. Assholes if you got right down to it. Often drunk, and always assuming that her sexology specialty meant that she was their prostitute, their hired hooker.

Uneducated, drunken fools. And believe it or not, some addled minded fools were actually so dim witted as to believe they could walk into the room talking at her like she was their personal bitch, while using terms like bitch and ho, and believe that she should be glad about it. Charlotte could hardly believe it the first time it happened. Sexology was an established medical specialty not a- well, a good verbal dressing down, and a few well placed whacks with a medical texts were enough to send that bastard, and any since out the door fast.

She wasn't ashamed of that. As far as she could tell insurance companies didn't cover hookers- and if the 'patients' were paying in cash- and she loved this little bit, she told the front desk folks that they needed to pay in advance. That way she had no qualms about kicking their horny plastered fannies to the curb; she still got paid. Though she always gave them what for within the confines of her office. She could get her point across without raising her voice, though she wasn't afraid or ashamed to do that on occasion. Letting her voice carry was a great way to give added embarrassment and shame where it was flatly deserved. But always, within the confines of the office. She wasn't about to be seen hollering down the hallway, (or hitting someone with the side of a book) she was a professional after all. She had an image to uphold.

Unfortunately it became apparent that while she conducted herself as a consummate medical professional, people expected anything but professionalism from a sexologist, most didn't even believe she was a doctor.

Charlotte smirked, recalling one time she'd squelched such a belief of a patient after reviving him right then and there after cardiac arrest. When he came to, after she brought him back from the dead, more specifically- and saw her barking orders at the Oceanside Wellness staff like she was back home at her hospital, that bubba shut up real quick. He even broke into a little bit of a sweat the next time he saw her, took off his cap and apologized profusely the whole while she was explaining the details of erectile dysfunction to him and that a heart condition and excess weight can exacerbate such a problem.

His eyes glazed over telling her he wasn't about to do jack when it came to exercise. But she was in a good mood, she smiled conspiratorially at him and mentioned casually, "Well you know that when an overweight man has significant weight to drop- he grows an inch for every thirty pounds he loses."

Big Boy Bubba- her personal name for the patient's eyes unglazed and his mouth dropped. "Really, Dr. King?"

She laughed, he was a good ol' boy, and harmless. She wondered what in the world had gotten him to that part of CA. "Oh yes," she smiled. "Just thought knowing that might help in the exercise department. An extra bonus in the bedroom from dropping excess weight. Though," she looked pointed at him in case he was thinking of doing something stupid, "if you're just dropping weight and not building up muscle," she made a face, 'it doesn't work."

He jumped up and took her hand in both of his, pumping it like a pump handle. "Thank you, Dr. King! I'll be sure to be right on that! You'll see. Just wait, wait till I come back for a follow up! I thank you, and, and I know my wife would- if she were here with me. Thank you, again!"

She couldn't help giving a genuine smile at the grown man's sudden childish enthusiasm. "Well I'll look forward to it, Mr. Clark!"

Thinking on his parting words later she'd snorted with laughter hoping he was just planning on show off his new svelte figure when he came in and not dropping his pants.

Charlotte sighed, biting her lower lip casually as she scanned the room again. Dressed normally, and not wearing a stethoscope, ID badge or lab coat, she had relative anonymity. At first glance no one in the waiting room knew she was a doctor. It was nice having that advantage sometimes. Got people to spill the beans faster too. Hell, it wasn't sexology all day every day for her. More than once she was hand holding a mother whose daughter had a UTI due to wandering hands to put it delicately. And it had to be put delicately. Even still, no mother was happy to know that her toddler or elementary school student was 'touching herself'. It usually wasn't a problem with older girls. Not because they didn't do it as well, but because they were more festidious about hygeine and less likely to play in the dirt. Some days she dealt with more kids than Cooper did. Though fortunately, her kids didn't have a tendency to puke on her.

She put an elbow on the desk counter, tapping her pen absentmindedly as she muttered to the receptionist without taking her eyes away from the waiting area, "You sure she's here?"

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the girl nod. "Yes. And it's definitely a girl."

Charlotte nodded grimly, tired of her game. The waiting area was full of women, some with children, some not.

"Definitely a girl? meaning there's extra proof of her girlness? She got four boobs or somethin'?" She kept smiling out at the patients, muttering this discreetly behind her teeth.

Light laughter was her first answer. "Well after that one guy that made that appointment sounding like a girl"

Charlotte understood. She came from a conservative Southern family after all. The poor receptionist had been shocked when a halfway looking biological male came in to see her looking to enhance his 'her' qualities. He'd come in looking like a ragged woman who'd let herself go, which elicited the riot act from Sam and Addison. They'd both cornered her at the end of the day, telling her that they ran a respectful establishment, and wanted to be respectful, but they'd prefer that their practice waiting area not end up looking like a gay/tranny bar at midnight if her clientele quantity took a turn for that as opposed to the more common "I can't please my woman" complaint.

Frankly she had a lot of fun with the transgender folks who came to see her. It was always like chatting with girlfriends- not that she had many of those anymore. But she and her patients were always laughing and cracking jokes the whole while, no matter what specific reason the patient was there for. Those who'd not had a sex change came to her for their personal exams, feeling more comfortable with a doctor that knew that he was still a she biologically and needed a pelvic, or a she who needed her prostate or scrotum checked.

But due to Sam and Addison's harping, and the fact that some of her patients were a bit colorful, or clearly one sex physically while portraying another, Charlotte made sure that all calls for sexology appointments went to her voicemail extension, and she placed a special outgoing message that served it's original purpose as well as detered some of the freaky losers. It stated loosely that "Please be aware that this is a multi-discipline practice. There will be little kids, sick people, parents, and sweet old folks. Please come for your appointment dressed comfortably and appropriately for this environment."

She never had a problem. It seemed to do the trick. Soon after there were not nearly as many losers- or not nearly as many losers at first glance, as there had been before.

She'd also trained the desk staff to inquire when patients called for an appointment that if there was any doubt which specialty the person was in need of (usually the patient coughed up that information first, but not always) they ask them, "Are you looking to book an appointment with Dr. King our sexologist, or Dr. King the urologist?"

It definitely helped her to know what she was getting into, and she was called in her office as soon as a patient signed in.

"Oh hell," she grabbed her patient's file from the desk, giving up her game as futile. 

"Abigail-" _Oh crap. _She looked at the last name, and made a conscious effort not to make a face. Those Polish names always screwed her up. _If I had my way, everyone who comes to see me would have to have a pronounceable last name like, Smith or Up Yours._ She muffled a laugh at her inner joke.

"W.?" She finished and scanned the room with her "I'm a safe harmless white person", look. Wide open eyes and easy smile.

She'd been told exactly that in college when grouped and assigned to actually go door to door and survey residents and was the only 'white girl' in the group. The group had consisted of some annoying jock named Jack, also white, Charlotte's friend Camille whose parents were from...Laos, her friend Tiffany who was from Michigan and about the color of her black lab desk. Charlotte was jealous of Camille's long reflective hair, and Tiffany's skin, soft as warm butter without a single blemish- and she looked about ten years old which damn her meant she'd look 20 when she was 80. Unfair.

When learning what neighborhood they were going to, Tiffany'd dumped her surveys on Charlotte.

"What the?"

"Trust me, this is going to be like eating ice cream. So easy. For you," she emphasized.

"What are you talking about?"

Jackass Jock could be heard in the background snickering and non-too softly imitating the way she said what. Then he did the same with every other word until she turned around and shoved all the surveys at him saying, "So glad you finally learned to speak. Now will you shut up?"

"Hey, I'm not doing all these by myself!"

"Trust me," Tiffany broke in, "you'll be the one to get the most doors opened and the most surveys actually filled out."

She'd been confused. "Why?"

"Because you're white."

She'd stared at her in shock. "You're serious." She couldn't believe it.

"And you're Southern!" Jack added. "Everyone loves you," he gushed, then pinched her cheek. "You're just precious!" He cooed imitating exactly what their teacher had said, though not done in their first class.

Jack really was a jackass. Charlotte was about to slap him, when Tiffany spoke up again.

"That's true."

"You're kidding me." It wasn't a question.

"You can milk that accent of yours, too. You'll see. This is an old white neighborhood, with a bunch of old folks and people from 'the old country' wherever that is. Where I'm from, you don't open the door for anyone. But if you go to a neighborhood that is that dumb, they think you're gonna beg for money if you're black- I swear. I gave up doing that door to door shit back in Girl Scouts. Paired me up with a white girl, cuz you had to go in pairs so you didn't get kidnapped or something. What you wanna know, every time the white girl rang a bell the door opened. When I rang the bell, hardly anyone opened their damn door."

Charlotte had given her an exasperated look. That couldn't possibly be true.

"It's not her fault she's white," Camille'd chimed in.

"Yeah?" Tiffany raised an eyebrow. "Well, they'll probably open their door for you cuz they think you're one of those Make A Wish kids they've been sending money to in Asia all these years."

Jackass laughed. "That's not Make A Wish- those are the dying kids."

"Well Save the Poor Asian Kids," she rolled her eyes, "whatever."

"How many surveys you think I'll get done?" He asked. "I"m white."

All three girls looked at each other fighting back laughter.

"You're a lot of things," Camille whispered. They all laughed. Then, each grabbing a stack from the pile Jack held, the three girls headed off in different directions.

"What say we do this for a half hour, then meet back here and just make up the ones we didn't get?" She'd called this over her shoulder. It was agreed upon.

A half hour later, not believing one bit in her alleged "safe white girl look" she returned to her friends, and Jack. She was shocked to find that in fact she had gotten the most surveys collected. "It was just coincidence," she'd insisted.

Later on in life,she'd found that for whatever reason, her looks could get her places. Not that she needed her looks to get her places, like some folks. But it was nice for most people to greet her and not be doubting of her or her motives. Whether it was her skin color, the fact that in her opinion she was smoking hot, her smile or her accent, what the hell.

A young woman rose from a chair in the corner, slung a large black tote bag more securely over her shoulder and stepped forward. Her air was confident, her chin up, her eyes locked on Charlotte. Safe white girl look, she thought, maybe there is such a thing. This Abigail W. would probably be dubbed a 'safe white girl' by Tiffany's standards as well; thin, pale skin, large green eyes and long brown hair.

She met Charlotte with a warm smile. "It's Wroblewski," she explained. "Abigail Wroblewski."

Charlotte smiled back, she loved it when there was something to break the ice with. She motioned down the hall, and said while walking after her, "You know I always mess up with the last names with ski at the end, they always seem to have a lot of letters, and a lot of letters that aren't pronounced. In your case, all the w's."

"Yeah," Abigail agreed as they reached Charlotte's office door, "it's weird like that."

Charlotte found herself smiling back happy to feel at ease as she opened her office door for Abigail and motioned her in. Quite often the emotions of her embarrassed, tense patients wore off on her. She gave a small sigh of relief when she realized she didn't feel tense, just comfortable. Then to her own embarrassment Charlotte realized she'd forgotten to introduce herself!

Wroblewski walked into the room as Charlotte closed the door. Once done, Charlotte turned to her patient, ready to rectify the oversight.

"Sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners," she extended her hand, and Abigail took it readily, shaking her hand firmly making eye contact and still smiling.

"I'm Dr. Charlotte King," she introduced herself. "It's very nice to meet you," she smiled. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Quick as gunshot, Abigail Wroblewski's warm open face changed. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock. She stood looking like a gaping fish for a moment, then stammered, "I'm sorry," she gasped in a breath, "I didn't realize...I didn't realize you were the doctor." She shut her mouth then, pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin.

Abigail gave a forced laugh and forced a smile as well. "I mean, I just assumed you were a nurse or something. Doctors aren't usually the ones to come and get you."

Charlotte smiled back, mouth closed this time and nodded slowly as if in understanding.

"Yes, I know," she agreed amiably. "We do things a little differently around here." She gave a nudging glance to the chair. "Why don't you have a seat and tell me a little about yourself? Why you're here?"

"Oh," she laughed nervously pulling at her bag with one hand, shakily grabbing the chair back with another, "of course!" She obediently, but clearly reluctantly sat.

Charlotte kept the smile on her face, but as she saw her patient swallow, she glanced at the door. _Great, now I'm tense. _

"So," she literally pushed back her sudden apprehension by walking forward from her desk towards Abigail, then plopping down in the chair across from her, "what can I do for you? Why are you here, today, Abigail?"

"Or," she brightened at the sudden added tension breaker that came to mind, "do you prefer Abbie?"

Abigail glanced furtively to the door, opened her mouth wide as if to speak, then closed it dumbly.

Charlotte pursed her lips for a moment, before remembering herself and continuing to project both a demeanor and expression that said she was calm, at ease and nothing was wrong.

She glanced at the door as her patient did wondering, Why do I get the feeling like this girl oughta be here to see Violet, and not me?

She looked terrorized, and about to bolt. Charlotte King knew a lot about bolting, she'd had a horse after all.

Marjorie used to bolt all the time, any time a person came up to her. Big Daddy had told her Marjorie had been a wild horse, and from the looks of it young Charlotte had to agree, either that or abused. So maybe Big Daddy'd gotten her cheap, but she was a beautiful horse. But she liked to bolt, run like hell if given the chance, not trusting anyone or anything. It'd tried Charlotte's own patience, but she'd earned the horse's trust by doing simply that, being patient and being present allowing the animal to come to her.

She glanced at Wroblewski again and wondered if she could lock the door. This one was definitely a bolter.

"Abigail's fine," her voice cracked, but Charlotte could see her set her jaw. Her tone said that Abigail was fine because now Charlotte King wasn't someone that could be her girlfriend, but a doctor, someone who was about to know things about her . That meant Charlotte King needed to be kept at a distance. No friendly nicknames could be allowed here. Not now.

_Just smile and act natural. _She glanced down at Wroblewski's chart.

"I see you traveled a bit of a distance to get here, hope traffic wasn't too bad." A bit of a distance was an understatement. If her address was correct, she must've driven over an hour to get there. There were other sexologists closer to where she lived.

_Doesn't want anyone she knows to see her going to a sexologist. _That was common.

She gave a small smile and nodded. "A bit. Traffic was fine." She was no longer meeting Charlotte's gaze, something that did not go unnoticed.

Charlotte nodded trying to buy herself time to figure this out. "Good, that's good." This girl seemed more uncomfortable and trying harder to hide that fact than any of her other sexology patients. She didn't have many female patients to begin with, sex stigmas and all that of course. So it was as unusual for this young woman to be there, as it was that she was so afraid. It was one thing to be nervous, but this chick was scared.

She was about to ask, Did you mean to schedule an appointment with Violet Turner? When her mouth decided to say instead, "When is your birth-date?"

She was staring right at it. But doctors sometimes liked to verify random shit. It was plausible, and innocuous.

She answered as automatically as Charlotte'd expected. "Twelve, fifteen, eighty." The way you give your birth-date if your identity were being verified. Fine. No biggie.

Nodding appreciatively, she made eye contact with her then smiled. "So, that means you're almost thirty! Big milestone!" It was random crap. _Just ask her why she's here and be done with it!_

The woman looked to the door again, her hands tightened on the chair arms, and Charlotte could take her pulse just by watching the vein in her neck throb. _What the hell?_

Abigail gave her a smile that showed she was none too happy about that fact.

Charlotte took a deep breath. "So, tell me why you're here."

_Smile. Look not uncomfortable and non-intimidating. Safe. White. Girl. Smile! But not a huge smile. Just a nice inviting spill your guts kinda smile. Good Lord, I'm talking to myself in my head. Maybe I'm the one that needs to go see Violet. Oh my god, I'm still doing it!_


	2. Chapter 2

Ha ha ha- No, I was not done with the chapter when you wrote the review. I am now though. Happy? :)

Oh, and what you think the original idea was? It's so not what you think.

Anyway-

Abigail stared at her, open mouth, swallowed, glanced to the door like a child about to catch a beating, looked back at Charlotte, bit her lip, looked away and squirmed in her chair. This was a far cry from the confident, independent looking woman who'd greeted her not an hour before.

Charlotte was not the most patient person, even with her patients.

Finally, she broke down and demanded,"Good Lord, what is it?" "What is it that's got you so aggitated?"

Her patient stared back at her like she wanted to say something, but couldn't. Or like she was guilty.

Charlotte let out an angry huff of air. "I'm a doctor, and I can help you, but you have to tell me what's wrong with you first. That's my job- to help people. Whatever it is, or whatever you're too," she paused momentarily to think of something to say other than scared or nervous, "well-bred to say, I promise you I've heard worse."

She stood up to pace slightly, then glanced back quickly to be sure her patient hadn't bolted for the door. She sure as hell wouldn't put it past her. The woman who clearly was her age though she looked much younger at the moment, certainly was panicked enough to flee.

She let out another breath slowly, calmly- though that was faked. In truth she was doing what she'd seen Sam Bennett do when he was angry, he started to snap on people, then stopped himself, breathed and continued on calmly no matter how stupid people were being. Sam Bennett was a remarkably level headed and calm person. She'd never actually seen him show anger, though there were times when she knew he had to be pissed. No wait, she corrected herself, she had seen him angry. Recently. She shook her head, nevermind that.

But like Sam, if she projected calm, maybe her patient would mellow. She looked at her square on and earnest and tried again.

"IF there's something wrong with you, I'd really like to help."

Abigail pursed her lips as if she were holding back her words. She looked away, but when she looked back she met Charlotte's gaze once more and looked either very confused, very worried or both.

Oh boy, this better be good, she thought. If her problem is that her man doesn't last long enough or she can't orgasm-

"It's not that there's something physically wrong with me," she began.

Charlotte nearly smiled and snapped her fingers. _I knew it! Crazy! Shoulda called Violet in from the start. She's a nut-job! That explains it._

But when she looked again at Abigail's contrite expression, she had her doubts. Certainly this Abigail W-whatever seemed sane enough when she'd first met her. She pondered her patient's sanity as she looked at her pausing in her speech. _Maybe she's got a split personality._

"Well, maybe there is," Abigail corrected, "but I don't know. I don't think there is anything physically wrong with me- sexually," she spat the word out and Charlotte bit back a smile. That's mean she chided herself, most people don't deal with talking about sex on a daily basis. I shouldn't judge- so hard.

"Well, I guess the problem is that I don't know. I wouldn't know if there were."

Charlotte slowly stepped closer. There was something there now. She sat down across from Abigail again.

"I don't understand," she said softly. "Tell me what you mean."

She sighed, looking down at the floor, but Charlotte could see her face reddening and tears threatening. She crossed her legs away from Charlotte and wrung her hands.

"It's just-" She looked at her then looked away shaking her head resolutely. "No, it doesn't matter. Maybe I shouldn't have come. I mean, I'm fine." She shook her hair back over her shoulders and reached for her bag.

Quickly, Charlotte did something uncharacteristic, and possibly unprofessional. Before Abigail had barely moved her hand, Charlotte grabbed that hand in hers and pulled it towards her.

Shocked, and forced to redirect her attention from the door to the semi-imprisonment of her hand, Abigail looked at her.

"Abigail," she smiled at her again making note of her body language and sure that it conveyed only openness and care, "maybe there's nothing wrong with you. Maybe you're one of the people that doesn't need to be here, but this is my job, and I think, I think that you came all the way over here because you suspected that something might not be right with you. Won't you tell me what it is so I can help you make that judgement. Whatever it is, we can talk about it. Whatever it is," she repeated.

Charlotte's patient seemed to shrink into herself.

_Maybe I should just call Violet._

She made a face and squirmed in discomfort. "It's just... it's...

Charlotte waiting not moving or speaking or doing anything that would cause this girl to break off telling her what the heck was wrong.

"It's just so...embarassing," she confesssed. "Humiliating," she added.

"Abbie," she broke the 'no nick-name barrier' knowing that this girl was an Abbie, she had friends, people she cared about and who cared about her and they would call her Abbie. "Whatever it is, and please don't make me play 20 Questions to guess it," she added frankly, "I won't judge you. There's no judgment here."

_Well, except for the freaks. Bastards._

Abigail closed her eyes and actually squeezed Charlotte's hand.

"It's just that, I mean I never wanted to be a slut or anything, and I sure as hell didn't want to get pregnant and- well, I just thought it would happen when it happened." She opened her eyes and looked sideways as if watching her past go by. "It just never happened."

Charlotte made an understanging noise deep in her throat and was nodding her head before she realized it. _Fiding "the one"._ _Let's not go there. Think about something else. Like...your patient!_

Abigail took a deep breath, and Charlotte knew she was ready to finally spit it out.

"I've never had sex!"

The words were jumbled and fast, and Abigail had closed her eyes again as if in fear of retribution.

Charlotte's eyes widened. That wasn't what she was expecting.

Her mouth was slightly open in shock, and as she managed to close it she was grateful the girl had her eyes closed.

_Say something! If you don't she'll think you do think she's a freak, and that's not good._

"Whew, I was thinking you'd killed someone, had some sort of S&M accident or something!"

She winced. She hasn't had sex! She doesn't know what S&M is!

Abigail laughed, and it again was a strained laugh. Her shoulders which had been so tight slumped down, and Charlotte realized what a weight this had been and how exhausting just saying that truth was. So she said the next thing on her mind,

"Were you molested or something as a child?"

She looked to the ceiling. "Well yeah, but it was a long time ago."

_Ha! See, I can do shrinking too, not just Violet._

"And I don't think that's what has all that much to do with it."

"Okay, well I'm not here to say whether it's right or wrong not to have sex, although," her memory finally kicked in, "there are people who never have sex. It's just a thing."

Abigail just looked at her.

"Why do you think you haven't had sex? Wait, do you want to have sex?"

She shrugged. "Well like I said, in school I didn't want to be a slut, and my biggest fear was getting pregnant cuz you know people can get pregnant even if they're on the pill and the guy uses a condom."

Charlotte nodded. It was true.

"I wasn't sure if I'd have the guts to get an abortion, so I decided that since so many guys leave their girlfriends once they get knocked up, that I'd have to have a full time job and be secure before having sex, that way if the guy leaves me I can still support myself, or at least have a better chance of supporting myself than if I didn't have a full time job."

"When did you decide that?"

"In middle school."

That was impressive, so she said so. "I"ve gotta hand it to you, that's impressive. Most teenagers have a very difficult time thinking ahead or seeing consequences. I'd say that was very logical thinking."

"Yeah," she sighed as if that depressed her.

"And you stuck to that all through middle school?"

"And high school, and college." She said the latter as if she were ashamed. But hell, it was a smarter choice than a lot of women made. She couldn't fault the woman for that.

"I figured I'd have a steady job by the time I got to college, but apparently the universe had other plans. I only got part time jobs, so I figured then wasn't the right time either."

"And I figured I'd meet a guy when I was about twenty, then probably be married by twenty two, and have kids by twenty four."

Charlotte couldn't help smiling herself. "Isn't it funny how you just think things will happen? And they should happen by a certain time table? Then when you get to that point-"

"It's not as easy as I thought it was going to be."

"Ain't that the truth."

"So then by 22 I figured, well it'll happen soon. I've waited this long, what's a little longer?"

"I ended up in school for longer than I planned, I was always working or studying- I barely had time to sleep let alone sleep with someone, and time passed and I kept thinking it would happen, but it didn't."

Charlotte glanced at her watch. She had another patient in a half hour.

"Abigail?"

She looked at her.

"Is it awful that I haven't had sex?" She asked. "Am I some sort of freak?"

Charlotte felt sorry for her. "Of course not," she spat out. "Now, have I helped a little bit? Because I'd really like to see you again. I'd really like to hear more, but I do have another patient to get ready for."

Reddening in embarrassment, Abigail shot up to standing, yanking her bag over her shoulder. "Oh, of course!" She apologized. "I'm so sorry to have taken up so much of your time. I just thought it wouldn't be a big deal and then-"

Charlotte shook her head and waved the concern away with a hand. "Don't worry about it." She released the girl's hand, which she hadn't realized she'd still been holding, then she stood and straightened her shoulders and shirt.

"Would it be too much of an imposition to ask you to come back? I know it's quite a distance."

Abigail seemed relieved. "No, no it's fine."

Charlotte nodded and smiled feeling on the up and up again. "Wonderful! Now, you can just go back to the reception desk and they'll get you all set, how's that sound?"

"Great." She returned the smile. "Thank you, Dr. King."

"No problem. Just whatever works with your schedule," she put her hands on her hips as Abigail opened the door, "I can work you in."

"Thank you."

When the door closed again Charlotte let out a breath.

"Wow," she muttered.

Okay, it's review time! Click the button and tell me what you think! The log in thing should be disabled, so you should be able to review without logging in. If I I set it up correctly. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow. I've gotten a whole bunch of messages. A lot of them I don't know the answer to. This just started from me not believing sexology was an actual medical specialty. I mean, come on, you know it sounds nasty! Lol. So anyhow, now I'm trying to work some of your stuff in. More of it. And I learned from researching for this chapter that sexologists are often utilized in rape cases (who knew?). Also that there are specialy trained nurses available for rape victims. However, all er doctors and most nurses are required to know basic procedure for rape treatment (way different from a simple pelvic, btw) as not all hospitals and treatment clinics can afford the specially trained nurses/ to be prepared if they're not available. Although most doctors in general know procedure for rape victims. So this would include Charlotte, anyway you look at it_

_This is a long chapter, because I was working on a follow up to the last chap before getting the tip for this chapter. Get a snack!_

Story-

"So, how's your day been?"

Violet Turner was sitting at the island in the kitchen, half sprawled on the counter top, munching on a burger.

Charlotte's mouth watered and she swallowed before asking, "Plan on sharing that or are there more?"

Violet made a face of regret that said both no there aren't more and no I'm not sharing. "Um, got it from the vendor outside."

Charlotte perked up.

"What vendor outside?" She must have sounded pathetic or starving being so eager.

Violet's forehead became lined.

Charlotte rolled her eyes heavenward. "Crap," she muttered just as Violet answered,

"The vendor just left for another area."

"Damnit!" She hissed through clenched teeth.

"You forget to bring lunch?"

"You sharin'?"

"No."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head tisking Violet. "If I did would you share?"

She looked at her suspiciously. "But...you didn't forget your lunch."

"I take it that's a no. Great, Turner. Lovely."

Before Violet could get a word in edgewise she added, "And no I didn't. Just didn't bring something as nice as a burger," the last statement was tinged with self loathing and bitterness.

"I almost hate to ask-"

"No you don't," Charlotte snapped, a bit harsher than she'd intended. Granted, she was feeling sorry for herself, but for the love of Mike, the woman had a burger!

"What did you bring?"

Charlotte growled and glared in the direction of the fridge. "A salad," she deadpanned.

Violet looked down, shaking her head in an attempt to hide her expression, but she couldn't hold in her laughter.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, but you just look like a tiny ball of angry. So little and pissed off."

"Thanks," she glared, kicking the fridge before ploppin down across from the shrink, "that makes it better."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Her eyes lighted a bit and she opened her mouth for a moment, about to give an answer in the affirmative. Then she remembered that she didn't like to share, and this was a problem she could fix on her own.

"No," she answered still glowering. Then she straightened, gave a friendly smile and answered, "No thank you."

Violet shrugged as she stuffed the last bite of hamburger into her mouth. "Okay," she answered.

BECAUSE YOU CAN NO LONGER DO A PAGE BREAK OR SEGUE IN STORIES, WE'LL JUST SAY... LATER IN THE DAY... LOL.

You paged?"

He came into her office with a spring in his step and a happy smile on his face- and, she was happy to note not a trace of lust in his eyes or the idea he was gonna get any. After the day she'd just had, she shuddered involuntarily, she didn't even want to think about he. Cooper looked like a happy puppy dog. This was going to crush him. And here she felt bad enough already.

He bent over to kiss her on the forehead then asked, "Why didn't you just call?"

She rose from her desk, eager to get Cooper to his destination not for the reason for the trip, but for the fact that it would finally make his patient happy. She looked at him straight on and realized he was taking in the stern expression on her face. She pursed her lips then sighed and quipped, "I didn't have time."

Truer than she'd like it to be.

His brow wrinkled in curiosity and concern. "Why not?"

"I was busy," she answered, then before she started doing something uselessly unproductive like crying, she grabbed him by the wrist and began to pull him out of the office after her as she added tersely, "I was busy holdin' someone down. Till I got nurses and an orderly to do it for me."

She glanced back and gave him a meaningful look meant to let him know that something bad had happened. He just looked more confused.

She bit her tongue, happy Cooper was walking in pace beside her now, so that he was more likely to catch her if she fell. She felt like she was about to pass out. Or throw up. Or cry. Or all three.

_Damn it, get ahold of yourself, King! _She shook her head hard to clear it as they approached the east wing elevators.

"A kid came in," she began as they waited. "I was going over the month's staffing requests with the er scheduler at the front desk," she gasped in a breath. "I was there, but I didn't see her first. I don't know who she started talking to."

Cooper put a hand to her shoulder, worried, and upset to see Charlotte so upset. She glared at the closed elevator doors in front of them and shoved his hand away.

She sighed and continued in a monotone, "I don't know what to say. Thank God for Sesame Street? Or those public service messages? A random soap opera?" She stopped then, realizing that now was not the time to say what she'd thought, or what she was thinking. Sticking to the plain facts was the best way to keep from losing it.

Apparently Cooper agreed. "What happened?"

"I hear a girl's voice saying to someone, "I just remembered you're supposed to go see a doctor right away when this sort of thing happens. to the hospital. I don't have a cell phone, and there weren't any pay phones around. I didn't know where a doctor's office was, and my doctor is far away, but I knew where the hospital was. I was too scared to ask anyone for help."

Her steel gaze fixed on the metal doors in front of her she made herself continue. "That's when I looked up. Some kid, some girl standing there looking beat to hell. Then I walked over." She swallowed down the bile in her throat. "I don't know what made me do it, probably cuz I'm the god-damned Chief of Staff," she spat out. "She was bleeding through her jeans like a stuck pig."

_Don't think. You're giving too many details, just tell the facts!_

The elevator doors opened and the only person on stepped off. Stepping inside, Charlotte pressed the close door button, then the hold button. She'd need to tell him more before she pressed the floor button- he knew the hospital as well as she did.

"Kid got raped. I took her aside. She was shaken up. I asked if she'd gotten her period yet." Her lips pursed in disgust on their own accord, "cuz it could have been that." She sighed and rolled her eyes, sickened. "She hadn't."

"Dr. Guarder came up and asked if I wanted him to take over." She rolled her eyes and finally looked at Cooper with an expression of confidence and disgust- something he recognized. "What was he, out of his mind? Little girl gets raped- the last thing she wants is another strange man touching her."

"So I take her into a room, grab a nurse and start doing procedure. Get her to strip down, collect her clothes for evidence then the nurse starts at the top collecting evidence, and making notes while I tell her I'm gonna examine her feet and legs for injury. And she's just looking so," shutting her eyes and shaking her head hard she finished, "then she just started crying. And I was already trying not to-" she sucked in a breath.

"It looked like she might have internal injuries causing the bleeding, so I tell her that I have to do a pelvic- and you just she just looked at me wide eyed as Bambi and said, "What's that?"

"So I explained it to her," Charlotte's voice was shaky and her cheeks were reddening. Cooper winced feeling hurt for her, and knowing it best not to comment yet. "as delicately as I could. And her eyes just got bigger."

"I started with a general exam, looking for external wounds, all that crap. Just like clockwork. Then we got to her privates and she was fine until I asked her to put her feet in the stirrups. She said, "My doctor never does that."

"Then I get the joy of telling her that that's what a pediatrician does, but when you have a grown up exam they have to examine something different."

"She said I'm not a grown up. That's why I go to a pediatrican- a kid's doctor. My mom goes to a grown up doctor because she's a grown up- she doesn't make me go to her doctor, and she doesn't go to mine."

"Did you tell her that since she had a grown up thing done to her-"

'Yup'.

So finally she gets her feet in the stirrups. Then when I insert a finger to do a digital exam, she scoots back. It hurts, and it's gross."

Says I'm nasty and that no one would do this-"

"Charlotte?" He looked at her with love and concern then when she looked at him he said, "Just tell me why I'm here."

She felt light headed. "It's Juliana Martinez. Your-"

"Julia?" He pronounced the name in the Mexican fashion, pronouncing the J like the English letter H.

"Yeah." She gave a curt nod then pressed the four button.

Cooper just stared at her with his mouth open like she'd slapped him or something.

"Thanks," she glared, make me feel worse."

He closed his eyes a moment then kissed her. "No. No. I'm just...shocked."

He nodded to the light four button. "But why am I here- and why are we going to the maternity ward?"

"Fulfilling a promise," she muttered, not looking at him. "Had to drag her up there so her screams wouldn't sound so loud. Got some of the L&D nurses to come in and help."

"Wha-"

"She just kept hollering for you. Because you would not do this to her. She was convinced that I was wrong- and that I was hurting her."

The elevator chimed then stopped. "Which, I was." She looked at him and put her hands up. "Couldn't be helped!"

He looked back at her, confused and worried as he stepped onto the floor, knowing she'd fill him in later. He saw mothers in wheelchairs, and pink robed women walking down halls with their husbands. "Which room?"

She pointed.

"Dr. Cooper!"

"Her mother can't be reached," Charlotte's muttered under her breath as Cooper fixed his face into that of joy smiling as if little Julia were the light to his day, or his most wished for thing.

"Hey, Julia! Just the person I wanted to see!"

She held her arms out, small in a large hospital bed. When Cooper neared, she enveloped him her arms thrown around him as she buried her head somewhere between his chest and his stomach.

Charlotte guessed the kid had a right to be pretty happy since Cooper was the only person she'd seen all day that she recognized.

He looked down at Julia and blinked back tears. Julia, he imagined would be the perfect Dorthy in a Wizard of Oz play. Even now she had her characteristic twin braids framing her bronze face. Two thick black braids, one over her shoulder pinned between her chest and his stomach, the other trailing down her back, red ribbon peeking out at the bottom.

Mrs. Martinez kept Julia as innocent as possible even though she was no longer what most considered a little girl, and raised her in a conservative Catholic manner. Little Julia, even growing up in this large metropolise seemed unphazed by everyday life, and content to live as her mother dictated.

He liked Mrs. Martinez. She was Mrs. Martinez even though Cooper had never seen or heard of a Mr. Martinez and didn't ask. Mrs. Martinez was respectful, gracious and unfailingly generous even as busy as she must have been. He gathered that she worked as hard as possible to give Julia the best things that money and love would buy. Why she and her daughter took 3 buses to get to him at Oceanside. She'd once brought him chicken soup- made from a chicken she'd killed at her uncles only the day before! The soup- impecable.

With a little sobbing gasp Julia looked past Cooper to Charlotte. "Get her out of here!" She cried. "That doctor doesn't know what to do!"

She looked up at Cooper earnestly. "I told her that's not how you examine me, but-" she stopped there and took in a shaky breath instead. Balanced between still being a little girl and wanting be strong and adult like the tween she was.

Cooper glanced over at Charlotte and gave her a pained apologetic smile.

"Well, why don't you just talk to me, okay Juliana?"

"You wouldn't do it!" She insisted. "You wouldn't have done that!"

"What Dr. King did? How she examined you?"

She nodded vigorously.

He knew better just then to tell her that he had done pelvic exams, and though he'd never done a rape exam- especially on a child, that he knew procedure at least as well as Charlotte, and though he hadn't been here when she was performing it, he knew he'd have done the same as Charlotte, in a given situation.

Instead of entering into that particular conversation, he asked instead,

"What happened?"

"Mama had to work. I wanted to go to the park. So I took the bus. I went to the bodega to get some snacks, then I walked. Then some burro grabbed me."

Burro...his brain searched quickly for a definition. Ah, he nodded. Idiot. Yes, of course.

She primly pursed her lips and her smooth forehead lined in anger. She was silent.

"He hurt you?"

Mmhmm." She agreed.

Carefully he traced a lump forming on the side of her head. He wondered, with her good manners and home training if she'd fought back. Personally, he hoped not.

He hugged her tightly. "I'm glad you're still here," he commented. Saying without saying it that most children that are grabbed are usually dragged away somewhere and never seen again. Releasing her, he smiled. "Your mom will be here soon. Why don't you try and get some sleep? I know you've got to be tired."

With that directive, Juliana happily settled down and slept.

Charlotte uncharacteristically brought in an ice cream, stashing it in the colder part of the room's mini-fridge for the girl- along with two for the adults in the room. She then plopped down into a chair and put her feet up on a rolling cart.

Cooper gave her a weak smile. She'd had a long day.

"You think there's martini or vodka ice cream?" She asked him seriously, taking a bite of her ice cream.

Cooper just laughed.

Finished with the ice cream a few minutes later, Charlotte glanced at the sleeping girl.

"Learned lots of things today little girls shouldn't know," she murmered.

"Hija!"

They both jumped at the unexpected break in the silent room.

Julia's eyes popped open instantly. Charlotte shot up from her unprofessional lounging position.

"Mami!" Julia squealed the word, and held her hands out now to Mrs. Martinez. As the woman barrled into the room, Cooper quickly stepped back, certain that if he did not get out of the way, that he would be trampled.

Mrs. Martinez encased her child, as if holding her off from the word. She sobbed briefly, kissing her child rapidly yet gently, putting a hand to the top of her head and holding it to her chest. She closed her eyes then, muttered a brief prayer in Spanish and quickly crossed herself.

Taking short gasping breaths, still holding Julia to her fiercely, she looked at Cooper. "What happened? What happened to my baby?"

He swallowed and glanced over at Charlotte, from the look in her eyes she wasn't about to help him out here, she'd done enough.

"Mrs. Martinez," he licked his lips, hating what he had to say, "it appears as though- Juliana was attacked."

"By who?"

He looked down at the floor shifting his weight. "Mrs. Martinez," he lowered his voice and looked at her meaningfully. As she looked back at him, her eyes locked on his he could see the fear and prayer that he would not say what she feared most.

"Mrs. Martinez," he repeated, "The man that attacked Juliana, he," Cooper stopped and nodded silently to the nether region of a person's anatomy.

"Dios Mio!" She screamed the words. "No, no!" She shook her head wildly, looking to her daughter, to Cooper and back. She hugged Julia to her again, more tightly this time, until Julia moaned in pain. Mrs. Martinez released her as if sicked that what this man had done to her caused her to hurt her own child with a hug.

Her eyes locked on Charlotte's then, and they were deadly and fierce. Cooper considered that Charlotte would rip anyone's throat out if they so hurt someone that she loved, and he knew that Mrs. Martinez would do the same.

"Did you get him? The monster that raped by baby?"

Charlotte looked down, uncharacteristically, then stepped forward. "No, no the man has not been found to my knowledge. "

"You know who did this?"

Cooper shook his head, silent.

Charlotte cleared her throat all professionalism and cool.

" Mrs. Martinez, we need to talk about the damage that your daughter has sustained due to her attack."

Mrs. Martinez looked at Charlotte seriously and waited.

"We did a head CT, she has a mild concussion. Slight bruising of the upper arms and wrists, that big knot on her forehead, mouth abraisions-"

Mrs. Martinez's mouth dropped open in horror. "He didn't-"

Charlotte understood her mistake quickly with what the woman assumed. "No, no," she assured her.

Julia's mother nearly deflated with relief, then looked up in horror again, asking something in rapid spanish.

"I beg your pardon?"

Tight lipped she glanced at her daughter as if wanting to spare her, then covered the girl's ears with her hands. She asked something of Charlote again in Spanish, with the only English word being homosexual and le gay.

Charlotte got the gist of it and shook her head again. "No, no, there was no anal penetration."

Cooper gagged slightly and shuddered. Thankfully no one in the room paid him any mind.

"Worse bruising around the hips- walking will be painful for a few days, but no broken bones. Examined her for internal bleeding, and there was none. Her vagina has sustained some damage that will heal if left alone, but her pubic symphysis is intact, her cervix and uterus sustained no permanent damage."

"No permanent damage," she whispered shaking her head. "No permanent damage!"

Cooper knew what she was thinking. Julia had been damaged for life.

She shook her head again, made the sign of the cross yet again and began softly whispering something in Spanish. Cooper was certain if she was praying for her daughter, or for God to enact a quick and painful death for the purputrator.

"Keep her in bed for a week," Charlotte continued, then smiled at Julia when they made eye contact, "and she'll be fine."

Charlotte sat on her office floor, against the wall with her knees drawn to her chest. Her cheeks were dark red and she kept sniffling as though she were crying, but no tears fell.

"It was awful."

Cooper, sitting beside her nodded silently, staring straight ahead as Charlotte was.

This sweet scared little puppy dog looking thing. Yes, Senora Dr. King. Yes, Miss Dr. King, no Miss Dr. King. Jesus, she's a good kid."

He nodded.

With an angry huff she glared at the wall. "I hate her," she grumbled.

He nodded again, understanding. It would have been easier for Charlotte if her patient had been beligerent and unlikeable. But here, her feelings threatened to overtake her. At heart she was such a romantic, so emotion driven and joyful, she had to fight to supress her feelings, maintain professional decorum at all times. So to counter it all, she usually amped up the bitch and hoped for the best. She hid this all from others until she trusted them. And that, he'd learned often took years.

"Looked at me with these big eyes, and she just wailed so loud- and she was apologizing- I had her wheeled up here. Wouldn't stay in the stirrups- they were too big for her anyway. Then she cried and fought like a wet cat crying for her mommy."

She swallowed and shuddered.

"And begged you to stop?"

"It was hardly anything!" Her voice was sharp and she looked at him to make him believe her. "But..." she shook her head with regret, "it hurt."

_She'd acted in the best interests of a child whose mother was unreachable. Acted as the parent as law allowed in these cases. The girl hadn't objected. But when she found Julia to be Catholic she withheld the Plan B drug until able to speak to a parent or family member. She'd told him she'd have withheld it anyway in such a case till parents gave consent, but especially so considering she was of the Catholic faith._

_Julia's mother had called Charlotte, Senora Medico, and Senora Doctora. It was cute. Charlotte had covered a happy blush at the sign of respect from a greiving mother._

_Proudly Cooper pipped up. "Dr. King is the hospital Chief of Staff."_

_Mrs. Martinez nodded respectfully. "Oh, la jeffa," she approved._

_Charlotte sidled up to him. "Did she just call me a heifer? As in cow?"_

_He passed a hand discreetly over his mouth. "Means the boss."_

_She nodded then gave an open smile of gratitude to Mrs. Martinez, for recognition of her status._

_Uncharacteristically Julia hissed to her mother in Spanish Cooper got the gist of it. He whispered translation for Charlotte. "She did things to me that hurt!" Mrs. Martinez actually glared at her stricken daughter before firing back in Spanish. "The woman saved your life, be grateful. And grateful to God that that monster didn't kill you."_

_Chastised, Julia looked down. "Lo siento, mami." _

"_Apologize to Dr. King. In English."_

_Charlotte stepped forward shaking her head. "That's not necessary."_

"_It is."_

"_No, Mrs. Martinez it is not. I was there, I know what I did to her. It was painful. And she did apologize poor thing just for crying so much. After what she's been through she doesn't have to apologize to anyone for anything that happened today."_

"_Thank you, Dr. King."_

_In the birthing suite, she'd taken Mrs. Martinez aside and whispered that even though Julia wasn't menstrating that she should consider Plan B if she wanted to prevent pregnancy. _

_"I know the Catholic church is generally against-"_

_It was there Mrs. Martinez stopped her. "Julia is a good Catholic. We were all raised Catholic. God would not mean a child to suffer when help is there. He does not do for you when you can do it. Julia will take the pill. God does not need to help us here. We help ourselves."_

_Charlotte had left to get the prescription._

_Shortly after, there was a buzz of activity both inside and outside the room. Mrs. Martinez shrieked at a cop, while Julia's uncle appeared, lifting her from bed. Charlotte, without a word of argument simply handed Mrs. Martinez Julia's discharge papers, then went to 'have words' with the officer. _

_Cooper heard Mrs. Martinez tell Julia, "We will go to iglesia. Your aunt and cousins are there. You will have a special blessing." _

_To his surprise she and Charlotte gave a single nod to one another, as if they understood something amongst themselves. Then Mrs. Martinez smiled at Cooper, and with tears in her eyes, embraced him, squeezed his hand and said with trembling lips, "Thank you for looking after my Julia, Dr. Freedman." The uncle nodded to him in the same manner, then they were gone._

_He realized then that Mrs. Martinez was choosing not to put Julia through reliving the details for a cop, or even going through the usual reporting procedures. She was taking her daughter home, in hopes she would forget about it. But going to trial, having to identify her attacker? He realized then that Julia's mother and Charlotte had discussed this already. He knew Charlotte agreed 100% with Mrs. Martinez's reasoning. In the end, putting Julia through more just wasn't right. And, he recalled his training, "How a rape victim decides to deal with their attack whether they decide to report it is their choice. They cannot be compelled to do so, or by the police to go forward with proceedings or testify."_

A few minutes later, Cooper sat by her side while she finished paper work, for once not following protocol to the letter and letting somethings slide. The moment she finished, he kissed her on the top of her head.

"Let's go home, Charlotte."

Okay, now you all need to stop being lazy and review. Especially all you messaging me ideas! Slap to the hand for you! Next chap? WAY WAY shorter! PROMISE! It's actually pretty much done already.


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: I got this condition from one of y'all. You tell whoever it is that you know that had this mess that I am personally so very sorry! OUCH. It's very real and very ouch. Apparently you can get it having kids AND if you're a dancer or gymnast. And the other things I've learned, well...I don't know how old you all are, so I don't wanna to say anything that would scare you. Let's just say, I'm an adult, and what I learned about this injury when a sexologist actually has to get involved-scared me. Painful, scary and gross, I'd imagine. Eew.

"Where are you going off to?"

Cooper cocked his head to the side, curious.

It was much too late in the day for her to be going off on rounds.

Charlotte beamed with pride, lifting her chin and putting a hand on her hips. "I have a consult."

"Really?"

"UCLA."

His eyes widened. "The school, or the hospital?" He couldn't imagine the Chief of Staff moonlighting for another hospital would look very good.

"The hospital. More specifically, their physical therapy center. They called me." Her eyes were shining. Clearly she thought this was uber-awesome.

"As a...urologist? For you...chief of staff-ness?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "No, as a sexologist."

Cooper smirked without realizing it.

"What? I'm just saying, a sexologist on a college campus?" He grinned. "Boy I would have loved to have a s-"

""Stop it!" She ordered, without much malice as one ordering a dog. "It's a hospital and acclaimed physical therapy facility. And as I told you, sexology-it's a legitimate medical specialty. And in demand, I might add."

" I know."

"Then why do you have that smirk on your face?"

It vanished. "What smirk?"

"That snarky 10 year old boy smirk. They way kids get when they first watch 'the video' in school, and after that anytime anyone mentions 'sex' or 'doing it' everyone bursts out laughing and suddenly everything is funny because everything in their little world is now dirty."

She looked at him in helpless disapproval. "Stop it."

He laughed aloud lightly and held his hands up. "I'm not doing anything. You just said yourself it's a legit medical specialty."

She sighed and shook her head, unconvinced. "You're a ten year old."

He bit his lower lip, trying not to laugh.

"You're a doctor, for god's sake! You're supposed to be above this!"

He shrugged. "We're all ten years old, Charlotte."

"Maybe you are," she argued.

"So what are you going there for? What's the issue?"

She gave him an 'are you crazy?' look, then looked him up and down. When he continued to look at her seriously, with no trace of humor, she gave.

"Groin injury."

He sucked in breath through clenched teeth and winced. "Have fun."

She smiled. "I will. I like being able to go around and freelance, consult- work, run around and be a doctor like the rest of you without being tied down to a desk or St. Ambrose."

He grinned back at her. It was true, and he was happy for her. She really was loving her new position. She was much happier, free-er, more relaxed.

She stepped into the curtained off exam area in the building, after nodding goodbye to the physical therapist as she left.

"Right on time," the other woman called over her shoulder, to who could only be Charlotte's new patient, "here she comes."

"Talkin' about me behind my back?" Charlotte teased her, with the goal of helping put her yet unseen patient at ease. "Nice!" With the exception of Mr. Over-Eager Beaver Newlywed, Charlotte had never seen a sexology patient under the age of 25. So this patient was atypical in that she was younger than that, and of course, a she.

The young woman gave Charlotte an easy grin. Happy, to feel so accepted and in a new environment at that, she pulled back the curtain with a smile.

The smile fell the moment she saw her patient. A college girl sitting on a chair, well, sitting on an ice pack on top of a chair, actually.

Charlotte winced just as Cooper had. The girl's chart hadn't said the injury was still this bad.

"Ouch," Charlotte said.

The girl gave a tight smile that was more akin to a grimace of pain and forced a laugh. "Yeah," she affirmed.

Charlotte nodded to her. "I'm Charlotte King, I'm here to see if we can't all help you get back in working order."

The girl pursed her lips in a half smile, her cheeks reddening. "I'd stand but-"

Charlotte smiled and walked to her to shake hands. "That's perfectly alright."

She pulled up a chair as well and sat in front of her patient. "So, Jessie, your chart here says that you've been pretty much immobile in pain for the past week."

She nodded. "Yeah."

Her chart said she'd been diagnosed with osteitis pubis. The slightly amusing thing here was that with this injury Charlotte was sure Jessie was getting the same amount of teasing about being a prostitute or porn star that Charlotte was getting. People making stupid assumptions, and even stupider jokes.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I went to the doctor because I pulled a muscle in my leg and it wasn't getting better."

Left adductors. Gracilis and pectineus. Charlotte knew all the highlights of Jessie's status and injuries. She'd had her chart faxed over. But you always ask your patients to tell you in their own words.

"It hurt still, and felt like it'd tear in two if I actually did anything."

"At your groin?" Why beat around the bush? With this kind of injury Charlotte was confident that Jessie had faced some pretty intimate questions from doctors and physical therapists by now.

She nodded.

"The doctor said there was nothing wrong with my leg, that it was my hamstrings and a lack of abdominal strength."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. She was fairly confident that her patient had a six-pack under her shirt, and she didn't mean beer.

"So the doctor sent me to physical therapy to work on my hamstrings and abdominal strength."

"Nothing about your adductors? Your groin? Pelvic region?"

"No. She didn't listen to a word I said."

"Get an X-ray?"

"I asked for an MRI. You can't see jack on an x-ray."

Smart kid. She was absolutely right. An MRI was ten times more effective at correctly diagnosisng muscle injuries as well as seeing upcoming issues.

"She said in 6 weeks if I wasn't feeling better, then she'd do an x-ray."

_What kind of moron did she see?_ That explained the lack of films in her chart that Charlotte had called about. She thought the person on the other line was incompetent. Turns out, it was the doctor.

"The exercises they gave me really hurt, and my range of motion was nowhere near where it should have been."

Charlotte nodded.

"You got this injury dancing? The initial injury?"

"And this one. I was sliding down into a split on the floor and I felt something pop in my groin."

Good, she could at least say the word. Would make what she'd have to do and say easier.

"I went right back to the place and demanded to get an x ray cuz I thought this was due to the exercises, cuz they hurt in the same area, and my groin sure wasn't hurting like this before- only during those stupid exercises they had me doing- the ones that made my freakin' crotch hurt."

"Did you tell the physical therapist that?"

"He said to just work through the pain, that I was fine. All in my head, that kind of thing."

Idiot.

"A different doctor saw me did an xray and said I screwed up my pubic symphysis."

Charlotte nodded. "Sounds right to me."

"Which is why I'm icing my groin," she muttered, clearly pissed off.

" No MRI?"

She shook her head.

"Well it definitely sounds like you need one. I'm not even going to bother with films. I'm going to write you an order for an MRI and-"

"You can do that?"

"I'm a doctor. It's what we do." She wanted to add, I run a hospital, I can do anything I want, but didn't.

"You call St. Ambrose Hospital and get an MRI scheduled for 9am tomorrow morning- tell them Dr. Charlotte King sent you. I'll have an orthopedic lined up to take a look at the results and report back to me. It may be only pubic symphysitis, but I don't like to leave anything to chance."

"The physical therapist couldn't do that."

"Because she's not a doctor."

Jessie yanked the ice bag from beneath her and set it on the table. She was looking at Charlotte apprehensively. Charlotte knew what was coming, knowing the physical therapist had told Jessie about her work.

"So...you're an actual doctor?"

"Board certified," she nodded with both confidence and reassurance.

"But...," she crossed her legs, "you're a sexologist?"

She nodded.

"That's actually a real thing?"

"Absolutely. And don't worry, we'll get you healed up in no time. That's what I'm here for."

"But sex has nothing to do with why I'm here." Jessie objected.

Okay, show time. She couldn't blame the kid for being uncomfortable. Time to start explaining just why she was there.

Review time! Lemme know what you think so far. Anything you want to see let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, first off all," she paused reminding herself that while legally the person before her was a woman, she knew college students well enough to know that this girl was no more than a large sized child, and so she needed to proceed as delicately and respectfully as possible. "sex may have nothing to do with it-"

"I know it doesn't, "Jessie interuppted her. "I don't have a boyfriend at the moment, hence, no sex."

"As I was saying, it may have nothing to do with your current condition, but your problem may contribute to or be exasperbated by internal pelvic weaknesses. In other words if the muscles on the superior portion or the outside of your pubic bone are hurting you, and are weakened from lack of use- and I mean muscles that attach there, your leg muscles, abdomenal muscles- the muscles inside on the underside of you pubic bone or surrounding may be forced to pick up the slack- which can cause compensatory damage."

The kid's eyes had glazed over. Jessie shook her head once to clear the meangless words away. "Whatever."

"What I'm saying is that this injury has the potential to cause damage to your vagina, your perenium and anus."

"Oh, nasty!" She made a face. Charlotte kept a smile in check, thinking Oh, Cooper'd love this. He'd be I told you soing into next week. Knew I shouldn't kept out anus. She'd been fine up till then.

"So you see, this injury has the potential to cause a lot of damage. My job is to assess what's been done internally, by examining you, checking for muscular weakness."

"Okay." She seemed resigned.

"Then there's the isosentisis your doctor spoke to you about."

She nodded.

"I need to ask, since that procedure involves device to skin contact in order for the medication to penetrate the skin, if the area above your pubic bone is free of hair."

Jessie reddened. "Yes," her voice was somewhat meek. She wasn't looking at her.

"Allright, well I'm going to start off doing an internal exam, testing the strength of your pelvic floor muscles. It's similar to a pelvic exam she stopped. "Have you had pelvic exams before?" She was glad she'd remembered to ask for this information that way, as opposed to saying you have had pelvic exams before, haven't you? Which implied that there was something wrong with a patient if they had not. Which meant they gave an affirmative answer rather than feel embarrassed, which led to doctors being less careful, not unlike lying to a man or omitting to the fact that a girl hadn't slept with anyone.

"Yes." the look on her face darkened saying I don't want to be here.

"Similar but not the same as. I need to see if any one area hurts more than another, which means I'll need to do various positioning inside of you. This isn't a procedure that is usually done, but due to the severity of your injury I feel this is the best route."

No response.

"You were told to take over the counter pain medication just before-"

"Popped the pills once the receptionist called me back." She answered Charlotte's question.

"This is going to be an uncomfortable procedure," she apologized, "I need to know what areas of your inferior pubis hurt more, the degrees of pain."

"When that's done with, I'll do the isosentisis, that should help relieve some of the residual pain from this exam."

She heard her patient swallow in response.

##################################################################

Charlotte could see Jessie's toes curling up, and hear her sniffling.

"You okay?" She asked, out of politeness, but knowing she'd have to finish the exam if any of the issues the girl was having had any hope of being resolved.

"Uh uh." Her voice made it sound as if Jessie's face, which Charlotte was sure was streaked with tears, were much farther away from her than merely across an exam table.

Charlotte knew her patient meant she was not in so much pain that she could not stand it. Not that she wasn't in pain.

But Charlotte gave her credit, whether due to her dance training or merely a stubborn will, most women would be yelling in pain by this point in the exam, including those who had gone through childbirth.

To distract herself, as obviously such an internal exam relied up sense of touch rather than sight, she looked at Jessie's feet again. The kid's toes looked like they'd been beaten with a hammer.

That reminded Charlotte of the small talk Jessie'd made about her life at the Anaheim Ballet. Charlotte was sure she was used to pain.

"Just try and stay as relaxed as possible," she kept her voice calm, "this will all be over soon."

From under the drape Charlotte could see Jessie's stomach rise, and heard her take a shaky breath in. With what Charlotte was doing to her vaginal wall now, the poor thing was in too much pain to try and answer, lest a yell come out instead.

"I'm sorry," she apologized beforehand, "this next manipulation is going to be uncomfortable." She was silent for a moment, allowing Jessie time to brace herself for the pain, then continued, "Just take a deep breath in and hold real still for me.'

A tiny moan of fear reached her ears as she saw Jessie's toes curl more tightly. She heard Jessie take a breath in. As she did, Charlotte firmly made a fist and rotated it inside Jessie.

She couldn't help wincing and biting her own lip in mute sympathy as Jessie screamed out, backing away involuntarily in a flight survival response.

"Who wants to come home with Mama tonight?" She whispered the question to the wall of assorted alcohols, with an eye on the Grey Goose vodka.

"Oh, you do?" She cooed.

"Dr. King!"

Charlotte jumped, her hands automatically tensing around the handle of the shopping cart. After the fear came the embarrassment that someone that knew her had seen or heard her talking to vodka.

She closed her eyes trying to will reality away. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she looked up.

Charlotte's jaw dropped in shock. "Jane!"

She grinned like a maniac. It was like expecting the police at your door, then finding it's an old friend instead.

Jane smiled sweetly at her, nodded at the wall of booze and asked, though the question hardly needed asking,

"What are you doing out alone on a Friday night?"

For a moment Charlotte was speechless. As happy as she was to see Jane, a familiar face, one not streaked in tears, she just stared slack jawed. Not because she was shocked at seeing Jane, but because she was her doctor, and now seeing her out in public...you weren't supposed to associate with patients outside the office or hospital. Not supposed to be friends, not supposed to interact.

"I was just..."

"What is a hot little thing like you doing alone? I mean honey, you have got ALL the goods. Nice rack, gorgeous little body, pretty smile, and a job that people would kill for. Honey you are a catch!"

"Sweetheart, it's a Friday night someone like you should be in someone's bed right now!" She winked at Charlotte saucily.

"I'm not single. I have a boyfri- a fiance."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "And where is he?" Her tone and demeanor took on that of a disapproving Southern woman. Charlotte held back a smile, but couldn't keep it from her eyes.

"He's a doctor-"

"On call tonight?"

No, the big man decided he needs a night out with his babysitter, Violet. She made a face.

"No he-"

"Then why in the world are you out here alone on a Friday night?" Jane tisked and shook her head.

Good question.

"What is that man thinking? If I were a man," she smiled and winked at her again, "I would not treat a woman like you the way that he is." Without pausing she asked, "What say you come out with me tonight?"

Charlotte's jaw dropped again, on it's own accord. Can't interact with patients.

"Well, I really can't-"

"You look like someone who needs a night out. You were so kind to me, let me return the favor.

Now, I may not frequent the places you're accostomed to, but believe me, Dr. King, the folks around me are a loveable respectful bunch. They will just eat you up! You are too cute!"

Do not interact with patients.

"You're looking at drinks," she wielded, "must have been a hard day. You could go home and drink alone, or come with me, and we can drink together like girlfriends on vacation! Which sounds better to you?"

Do not interact with patients. You know better than this, Charlotte King!

"You'll just be like my Paris Hilton puppy dog on my arm!" She smiled and patted Charlotte's shoulder.

"What do you have to do right now?"

She tried to think of a lie, knowing this was breaking just about every single rule. "Nothing," she finally gave.

"Good. Then let's go get ourselves done up, a little tipsy and let's go have some fun, Dr. King!"

Being wanted and included felt good. Charlotte'd forced herself to be alone so long she'd almost made herself believe she wanted to be alone, was okay with being friendless. But at that moment the longing for friendship was so strong it was like being stabbed.

Must not interact with patients.

"Charlotte," she smiled, "Call me Charlotte."

Damn! This woman is like kryptonite! Breakin' me down in one fell swoop. Oh what the hell- what's it gonna hurt?

"Well, let's go, Dr. Charlotte."

An hour later they were pulling up to a hole in the wall in a seedy part of south Hollywood.

"I hope you don't mind the location," she warned, "it's the only environment I feel truly comfortable and accepted in. I think you will too, you won't have to worry about any men chasin' your tail. Although," she gave a slightly evil grin, "you may have to worry about some of the ladies. But don't worry, I'll steer you clear- or should I say, striaght?"

Charlotte laughed. "Well I appreciate it." Charlotte locked her car door and slammed it behind her. "I would think that this rock on my hand would be fair enough warning."

Jane closed the driver's side door, then looked across the top of the car at Charlotte. "You'd be surprised."

She gave a knowing smirk in return. "No I wouldn't."

They both laughed together as the walked inside.

Charlotte's eyes widened as she took in her surroundings silently. As Jane lead her to a seat at the bar, Charlotte's upbrining allowed her to recognize value, and though this place seemed like an old run down hole in the wall on the outside...the dark woodwork, the mirrors and the old flaking murals on the walls spoke of refinement, elegance and a glamorous history.

"This place is amazing," Charlotte breathed, still taking in the place as a drink with a cherry in it magically appeared in front of her.

Jane smirked. "I thought you might like it." She nodded to an empty plush booth across the way. "We're early yet, so we can get the good spots. Wanna head over there?"

Charlotte nodded wordlessly, rose from the bar stool she was perched on, and followed after Jane. Looking down in the darkened bar- admittedly she'd thought Jane would be taking her to a night club, but this beautiful place was a simple watering hole, she noticed flecks of gold in the floor. She smiled like a greedy child. I want gold in my floor!

Charlotte slid into the booth next to Jane.

Jane laughed. "You look like a kid at Christmas!"

She hasn't realized how hard she was smiling.

Her cheeks reddened, she looked down at the table top and up at Jane. "This is a gorgeous place, Jane. It really is."

She smiled back. "I thought you'd like it."

"You can tell it has a real history. I can appreciate that."

"I bet you can."

Jane sighed and relaxed back into the velvet cushioning behind them.

"So, how are things going for you?"

Charlotte blinked. Like a friend. Didn't need to be told that someone wanted to talk. Like Cooper and his beloved Violet, all the while she was slightly ignored. But it was better than nothing. And afterall, she was in love with him like the best fool.

"Work's work."

"You work at the hospital today?"

She shrugged, but was surprised that Jane remembered that she worked there. "Some." Maybe now would be a good time to put things straight. "Jane, did you know that I'm Chief of Staff there?"

She nodded. "I did and do. What, are you worried that hanging out with a woman like me might spoil your reputation?"

Charlotte saw pain in Jane's eyes, as if she'd been slapped.

"No!" She insisted. "It's not that. It's just that...doctors aren't supposed to...hang out with their patients."

"I see," she nodded as considering something, but Charlotte detected still a tone of dissaproval.

"So, you hang out with your usual friends?"

She didn't have a quick lie handy. She hadn't been expecting that. Charlotte looked down at her purse, considering.

In a soft tone, Jane spoke again.

"Oh, Dr. King, Charlotte" she murmered,, grasping her hand and squeezing it, "I never realized you felt socially homeless too."

Charlotte's head snapped up and she looked into Jane's dark eyes, which combined with the candle's light at the middle of the table, reflected Charlotte in them.

Socially homeless. A better phrase to describe her had never been said. And that was so damn pathetic it nearly brought her to tears right then and there.

She looked at Charlotte sadly. "No wonder you look so lonely. You poor thing."

Charlotte opened her mouth to object, but Jane held up a hand to stop her.

"You run an entire hospital. You must have so many people that are jealous of you, want to be you, and other people just want to hurt you- you sure can't be friends with them if you're their boss..." her voice trailed off as Jane shook her head. "You must not fit in anywhere, huh? It's not like the average girl your age would feel comfortable being friends with a woman with so much more power. And the doctors, they wouldn't feel that way because they have power and money too, but like I said you can't be friends with them.

Charlotte just kept staring at Jane, dumbstruck. All these years, and finally, finally she found someone who understood instantly how she felt. But, damn, it was depressing. Weren't they here for a night out?

She seemed to realize her mistake as she quickly smiled and said brightly, "But we're gonna have some fun tonight!" She scanned the room. "Let me introduce you to some of my friends!"

Charlotte sighed. Friends. She missed having friends.

Sorry it was so long. I meant for it to be shorter, really I did. But tell me what you think. Did you like having Jane in here? And, I couldn't go into detail about the exam Charlotte gave. Just couldn't stomach it. Once again, that's an injury you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy. Girls, it would make you cross your legs and wanna keep 'em that way if I'd put the details in!


	6. Chapter 6

Got a nasty stomach flu, this is what you get today.

"So how are you doing?"

"Fine," her smile was terse.

Charlotte had a pretty good idea of what she was thinking, I was fine till I got here. I'd be better if I weren't here right now.

"Have a seat," she motioned to the couch. "Glad you could get an appointment to come again so soon, Abigail."

Another smile, plastered on, and she nodded as if she agreed.

"I know from our last visit together you might feel a little bit uncomfortable talking about this particular subject."

Abbie's eyes were looking at her, but Charlotte could tell she wasn't really seeing her. Clearly all she was trying to do was not hear what she was saying.

"I do feel that if you came to me, if there are underlying physical issues that we can address them, openly, without fear."

Abigail made actual eye contact and for the briefest of a moments a look crossed her face that said, easy for you to say.

"You came to me for a reason, Abigail, and now that it's out in the open, I'd like to try to help you. Or, you might be more comfortable speaking with a psychologist that specializes in-"

"No thanks," her jaw was set and she looked at Charlotte finally.

Charlotte kept her smile in check, clearly one of my people she mused.

"Let's just get right down to it, can you tell me why you've chosen not to have sex, or why you don't want to have sex? Which is it, by the way? You're choosing not to, or you don't want to?"

She shrugged. "I guess it doesn't really matter anymore."

Charlotte waited, deciding that to keep quiet was the best way to get Abigail to talk. She certainly couldn't relate, so it's not like she could empathize.

"I think there's something wrong with me," her words echoed their first meeting. "I don't look right."

Charlotte gave her a gentle smile. "Could you be more specific? Doctors see a lot of people, and I mean a lot, so when you say you don't look right, or you think you don't...it could be perfectly normal. I've seen a man with a gate rail sticking through his arm, and I'd say that didn't look right."

Abigail smiled at that and gave a small self-conscious laugh.

"So be a little more specific so I'm not thinking you have four boobs or something." Charlotte leaned in across from her to help invite confidence and a sense of trust and comfort.

She laughed again, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment at Charlotte's anecdote.

"There are women," Charlotte continued, "who have one breast that is significantly smaller than the other, or a third nipple, which is fairly common actually. Is it either one of those issues?"

She shook her head. "No."

Charlotte waited again.

"It's just, I look okay with my clothes on, but that's it. I don't even want to look at myself in my underwear, I can't imagine anyone else would. And without it? Definitely not."

Oh dear. Body issues. She sighed. This is so one for Violet. What does she think I'm supposed to do for her?

"Again, I need to ask, Abbie, that you be more specific. Every woman has issues with her body."

"Not like this they don't," she muttered.

"Okay," she sighed faking patience, "tell me more."

"Well first of all, I have a lot of stretch marks. I mean a lot. From my waist down to my knees. I can never wear a top that might ride up because then people would see I have stretch marks that go really far up. Most people might have some on their hips or thighs, I have A LOT everywhere. I haven't worn shorts since I was twelve."

Charlotte blinked and tried to keep her expression neutral. Living in California and not being able to wear shorts?

"Have you lost or gained a significant amount of weight?"

"No. I've never been any bigger than I am now."

Charlotte looked at her. Big wasn't a word that came to mind.

"For some stretch marks can be genetic, especially if you have sensitive skin, and with your very fair skin I'd say that's a likely possibility. Do you sunburn easily?"

She nodded.

"Well there you go."

Abbie looked sidelong at her.

"And that's not all. I also have stretch marks on my boobs! Dr. King, I've never had kids, and I don't even have a rack to speak of. I'd get implants if I could afford them- I'm barely a B cup!"

"You're very slim," Charlotte began but Abigail cut her off.

"It gets worse though. My boobs, in addition to being so small they're almost non-existent, and having stretch marks which is insane because they're hardly grown enough to get any," she paused swallowed and looked away. "Well, they're not even."

"I told you that differences in breast size is normal."

"It's not that, I mean, it's not just that, yeah, my right is smaller than my left, but that's not the biggest, the most obvious difference. "

"I'm listening."

"Well," her cheeks reddened further with embarrassment. "It's the nipples. One of them goes in, and stays that way, and I'm fine with that. I wish they were both that way. The other one sticks out all the time. I have to wear super padded bras all the time, just to keep that one nipple from showing through my clothes. I mean if they both did that, people would just ask, "Are you cold?" all the time, but if it's clear that it's just one that does this- they'd know I was a freak."

Charlotte sighed slowly, feeling incredibly weighted down.

"I get the feeling there's more?"

She nodded. "There is." She sighed heavily, now completely unable to meet Charlotte's gaze. "On top of the stretch marks, and the small rack and the messed up boobs, I also have cellulite."

"The stretch marks on my ass, by the way, go in two directions, my ass looks like a checker-board. And on top of that I have cellulite. From my ass all the way down to my calf muscles."

Charlotte's eyes widened. That was unusual. And this girl was skinny. Her ass that she spoke of, was nearly non-existent.

She was going to ask about her diet, before explaining that both stretch marks and cellulite can be genetic, when Abigail continued.

"Dr. King, I don't want to have sex because I don't want any man to see my body. It's a train-wreck, a bodily house of horrors. I can't say I was fat or I had kids- I have nothing to explain it except that I'm a freak. I have a pretty face, and I like my hair, and I'm nice and people seem to like me, but I'm ugly, Dr. King. I'm freakishly, hideously ugly under my clothes."

Charlotte suddenly felt nacious, though she wasn't sure why. She listened on as her self-conscious patient continued,

"And when I came in here at first, I wanted to know, since I haven't ever had sex- well, willingly, I wanted to make sure I was normal in there. Like it wasn't broken. You know, the whole if you don't use it ya lose it, thing. So that if I wanted to have sex, I could. Plus, I think my...ya know, looks kinda gross and I'm afraid that would gross a guy out too. I mean, what with the rest of me looking so bad."

Abigail bit her lips together, then lifted her head. Charlotte watched silently as her green eyes filled with tears. And that was it, she started crying.

Slightly panicked, not being one to enjoy emotional displays the way Violet did, she looked around for a Kleenex box. She found one behind her and grabbed it, handing it to Abigail. Now she didn't feel as though her patient's problems were nothing, she felt sorry for her.

A few deep breaths calmed Abigail's sobs. Then she sniffled, looked Charlotte in the eye and asked,

"Dr. King, now I'm hoping you could look at me, examine me? You've probably seen a lot a women patients," she gasped back a sob, "I just want to know, medically speaking- how ugly am I?"

Okay, so...if no one's reviewing, I really don't see the point in continuing? Helloooo? Also I feel like if no one's commenting...it's like I have no audience. No one's reading. If you like it, if you don't I need to know. Writers need feedback ya know.


	7. Chapter 7

She'd walked up with a young woman about her age and asked, "Exam room three open?"

Addison had answered in the affirmative, after which Charlotte ushered her patient business like down the hall without another word.

A few minutes later Charlotte was back out in the hall, roaming, Addison was sure waiting for her patient to change into a gown.

Seeing Addison looking at her Charlotte quipped, "What? I do know how to examine a patient, Montgomery."

Addison held up her hands. "I'm well aware of that Charlotte. Believe it or not, I am aware that you're a practicing physician."

"Bout the only one," she grumbled, then rolled her eyes and headed back to the exam room.

Charlotte had seemed even more on edge than usual. But at least now Addison knew why.

"So sit down and don't go flappin' your gums to anyone about this, you got it?"

Charlotte King needed help.

Addison smiled. This was going to be fun!

She'd grabbed both she and Violet by the elbow and led them into the conference room, closing the door. A quick rapport like gun fire was her summary of her patient's condition.

"She's thirty and she's never...?"" Addison raised an eyebrow.

"Not willingly. There was some mention of some sexual abuse in her past, but that's not the issue."

"You're kidding right?" Violet laughed. "That is a huge red flag, Charlotte!"

"Maybe not so much as you think," she answered, then explained what Abigail had told her, and about the exam.

"Is her vagina normal? Muscle tone and function average?"

Charlotte nodded, "Perfectly healthy, no signs of weakness or damage."

Violet laughed again. "That's surprising, considering she's never used it."

Charlotte stared at her coldly. "And people say I'm the mean one."

"I was thinkin' of sending her to you," she continued, staring her down, "but now I may retract that thought."

Addison attempted to diffuse the situation.

"So, how can we help you, Charlotte."

She smiled when she saw Charlotte wrinkle her nose and wince at the word 'help'.

"I examined her, yes, and I told her everything was in working order, as she'd asked about."

"But the other stuff?" Violet prompted.

Charlotte gave. "I didn't know what to say. She willingly and eagerly showed me all her stretch marks and cellulite- and it was exactly as she'd described it. Told her she didn't need to flash me her boobs, I'd just take her word on it."

"And you're sure her problem isn't with her sexual assault or molestation? Did you ask her anything else about that?"

"That's a little too damn personal," Charlotte answered. "And she wasn't cryin' woe is me cuz she's been touched in a bad way or raped, she was sobbin' because she thinks her body's a war zone."

"Well?" Violet prompted.

"Are you off your crazy meds or something? You're awfully excited seeming about this girl's pain."

"Woman," Addison corrected. "She's a thirty year old woman."

"I've had a boring day," Violet answered Charlotte's comment unbothered, "This seems like a really interesting case."

"From your experience," Addison began, "was her degree of stretch marks and cellulite normal for a woman of her age, or-"

"Excessive," Charlotte answered. "And the fact that she got stretch marks so young, she told me the ones on her outer thighs showed up when she was seven, tells me that her skin isn't very strong or elastic. Her parents thought it was cancer, took her to the doctor to have it biopsied. Even the doctors were shocked by it."

"If it was just one thing, small chest, unequal nipple effacement, cellulite, or stretch marks, that would be one thing. But all of them at once?"

"I have to admit, that wouldn't make me feel too pretty."

"What did you end up telling her, by the way?"

Charlotte looked embarrassed. "I stalled for time," she admitted. "I told her her insides were fine, and talked about how cellulite and stretch marks are genetic a lot of times. Then we talked about diet and exercise-"

"And?"

"And I said come back and see me in a week, and we'll have more time to talk about it."

Violet hooted with laughter. "Dr. Charlotte King, Chief of Staff of St. Ambrose Hospital can't tell a patient she's-

Charlotte mouth dropped and she looked if she'd been slapped, but she picked up Violet's words.

"Ugly?" She asked. "Good Lord, you really are wacko, you know that? Talk about acting heartless!" She stood up, backing away from Violet as if she were contagious.

"You saw that woman walk with me into my office Violet- I saw your ass in the hall. That girl is pretty, and she's nice, and it sounds like she's got more than two brain cells to rub together, which is more than you're showin' off right now.. But you think that because some of her outsides don't match her insides she deserves to never be married never have kids? To have to live her whole life avoiding intimacy and love?"

She shook her head in disbelief, a hand on the door.

"Maybe what she needs is an opportunity to see that her problems aren't as bad as they could be. I mean, cancers, homelessness- what about the burn treatment unit at the hospital? The plastic surgeons who've worked on the men and women coming back from Iraq with-"

"I said she has _more_ than two brains cells to rub together," Charlotte reminded her, "she's not stupid. You show her how much worse off she could be, she's just gonna feel guilty and-" Charlotte stopped there. "That's not gonna help anyone."

"You know who could help with this?" Violet asked.

Both Charlotte and Addison raised their eyebrows in question. "The guys. Since it's guys she's worried about not wanting her because of all of this-"

"Oh no! No way are you calling those school boys in here!" Charlotte was absolutely mortified.

"Why not?" Violet asked. "We think it might be gross, but they're guys. They're the only one who can tell us honestly what a man would think if he were dating a woman with so many...physical," Violet thought for a moment, then another, "attributes," she finished finally.

"And tell them I can't help my own patient?" Charlotte scoffed. "Dream on, Turner."

Addison had to admit that Charlotte's horror and indignation were well placed at the moment. She felt as bad for Charlotte as she did for Charlotte's patient.

"We'll call the guys in and get their take for you. And don't worry," Addison smiled, "I'll tell them this is a patient of mine."

Charlotte didn't acknowledge that, she just left the room.

Walking past the front desk on the way to the elevator, the receptionist held out a hand to stop her.

Dr. King?" She called.

"Yes?"

"There's a woman who just called about needing her yearly pelvic exam, she wants to get it before her insurance is up for the year, and-"

"Lemme guess, everyone else is booked for the day, and this woman's insurance runs out tomorrow, am I about right?"

The young woman smiled at her. "On the money. I told her I'd check the schedule and get back to her. She said she can get her in twenty minutes, and you don't have an appointment for the next hour so-"

Charlotte sighed. Usually this blatant egotism and lack of consideration on the part of patients, and people in general annoyed her. But right now she was more pissed at herself for her cowardice and inability to really help her last patient.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "What the hell? "Tell her to get her ass in here, I'll squeeze her in."

"At least this is someone I can help," she muttered, continuing on to the elevator where she pulled her cell out and dialed Mark Sloane's number.

"It'll be a cold day in hell when I rely solely on Addison and Violet's assistance," she spoke aloud in the empty elevator as the phone rang.

She grimaced thinking of them telling the men of the practice, which probably meant pulling in Sheldon and Pete Wilder. But that's not what bothered her. It was Cooper. She knew what his reaction would be. "Eew."

That really pissed her off.

Okay, so...if no one's reviewing, I really don't see the point in continuing? Helloooo? Also I feel like if no one's commenting...it's like I have no audience. No one's reading. If you like it, if you don't I need to know. Writers need feedback ya know.


	8. Chapter 8

(So as reminder the girl that Charlotte goes to see is her patient Jessie, dancer at the Anaheim Ballet.)

Mark had turned out to be a hellofalot more help than Cooper. Not that she'd expected different.

Mark was objective, a little bit of an ass, but professionally speaking, this was all in his wheel house. His normal.

But Cooper? Should she feel badly that she hadn't expected better from him? Did she want to be with a man who had such a false image of a woman's body? Of her beauty?

Within five minutes of getting home, Cooper had thrown himself on the couch, looked up at her and announced, "You won't believe this patient of Addison's!"

She could feel her body tensing for the attack.

"Has so much cellulite and stretch marks they back track on themselves. Bi-directional stretch marks!" He laughed at the insanity of it. "Can you belive that?"

He looked at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief, but of course he wasn't really looking at her.

Charlote could feel her face reddening. She just stared at him in disbelief. Silent disbelief and disgust. She'd hoped he wouldn't be like this, but sadly knew better. And this was the proof of it.

"That the stretch marks actually run out of skin, out of space, so that when they want to make more of themselves, they just go back in another direction. Like a checkerboard! Literally," he paused emphasizing, "like a checkerboard!" Addison's own words! And she saw this woman," he insisted.

Charlotte glared down at him and could feel the snarl of utter disgust pulling at her cheek.

"I don't even think I wanna be around you right now," she hissed, truly sickened by her man's reaction to a woman's natural un-airbrushed, un-nip/tucked body.

"It's disgusting," she added, while at the same time turning on her heel, grabbing her purse and keys and heading straight out of there.

When she found herself at the box office buying a ticket for the ballet, she was surprised. Usually she considered ballet to be too girly. Too romatic, too sappy. But Jessie had told her that the current production was about death, most of the popular ballets were, actually.

I can get behind that, she thought. God she wanted to kill Cooper.

Charlotte felt a bit conspicuous wearing nothing but her work attire. It was professional. It was respectable, but she'd long been taught that when attending a cultural event such as a play, the ballet, or an orchestral event that you dressed to the nines, out of respect for the art form, not to mention showing respect for yourself.

And so with other women dressed in ball gowns, she felt out of place. There were little girls dressed in their Sunday best. Teens and college students wearing jeans, likely attending due to a forced assignment for school.

Charlotte thought she could spot the ballet students in the crowd. They were the teens that were dressed up, and sitting stick straight. Or the teens wearing a tee-shirt and jeans, but with their hair pulled back into a tight bun, obviously running here directly after dance class. Charlotte smiled. This was nice.

She watched the men valting around the stage, noticing that ballet attired left absolutely nothing to the imagination. If a woman was that exposed on stage, someone in management would be arrested. You could see everything.

Being turned on by it was something Charlotte couldn't deny. Seeing that much flesh was not something she'd expected at the ballet. Getting to see a man's junk was not at all what she'd thought of when she'd pulled into the parking garage. All she thought of ballet was what everyone thought, a woman dancing around on the tips of her toes wearing a puffy tutu. Men didn't even entre the picture in her mind.

Well, guess I'll have to amend that thought. Women dancing around in puffy tutus and men wearing tights that clearly shows the audience what they've got- and we're not talking about dance skill.

She laughed to herself. How could I not know about this? Maybe this is one of the better kept secrets of ballet? Along with the badly kept secrets of anorexia, she considered.

It wasn't until intermission that Charlotte thought about Jessie.

I wonder if she's here? She wouldn't be dancing of course, but what if she's backstage? Or in the wings watching?

No, she shook her head, remembering the bag of ice and Jessie's pain just in moving, no way could she be standing up. But, she might be backstage for...some reason.

She rose from her seat then carefully shuffled down the row past all the bodies and feet that decided to stay put.

After asking an usher for directions, she headed to the stage door and knocked.

The area was empty now, aside from people milling in the hall. Charlotte knew enough to realize that the stage door wouldn't be crowded with people until after the show.

The door opened and Charlotte saw an older woman with thick black rimmed glasses.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I am Dr. Charlotte King, I'm wondering if Jessie Sanchez is around. Ms. Sanchez is a patient of mine."

Her greying eyebrows rose, and Charlotte suddenly knew that everyone in the company knew about Jessie, and her injury.

"Please," she opened the door more and motioned inside.

Suddenly Charlotte was surrounded in a sea of pastel tutus, pink toe shoes and tights.

The dancers were walking around, stretching, icing themselves and cursing. One girl had both her feet in a bucket of pure ice.

Charlotte winced and looked away.

That's when she saw Jessie.

Jessie was dressed in a black leotard, wearing black nylon running capris and was sitting on a large bag of ice. Her feet and legs propped up on two chairs in front of her.

Upon seeing Charlotte, she tried to rise as a matter of habit, then halted herself.

"Dr. King," she smiled keeping her voice low.

"I was hanging out here and thought I might see if you were around."

"You came to see the ballet?" Jessie smiled, overjoyed.

She nodded. "Driving around, saw the sign, remembered you talking about it, so I decided what the hell?"

She winced. Be professional! Doctors do not say hell in front of patients.

Jessie nodded. "I'm glad you came. So what do you think of it?"

"You can see right through the men's tights!"

She couldn't help it. She had to tell someone.

Jessie laughed out loud. "You get used to it. And you can't really see right through them," she added, "guys have to wear something like a ballet jock strap," she explained.

"Oh," Charlotte nodded, "in case they get kicked by a girl's toe shoe."

Jessie laughed again. "Something like that."

Charlotte moved closer.

"I'd like to see you again tomorrow to work more on your pelvic floor, your abductors and your pubic symphasis. The MRI didn't show much, but I'd like to use an ultrasound to look for tiny tears that an MRI wouldn't pick up on. Often if the tear is right at the bone, it can't be seen on conventional imaging."

"Of course I'm not a physical therapist, but I have been trained in women's health and pelvic floor dysfuntion. If the problem is as bad as I think it might be, there are options that may help."

Jessie swallowed.

"I know that appointment the other day wasn't much fun. And I can't promise you this work will be any better, in fact in all honesty it may be much more painful. But it's better than nothing. If you do nothing, your pelvic bones can become inflammed and trust me, you do not want that happening. I want to work with you to help fix this." She glanced pointedly down at the bag of ice Jessie was clearly painfully sitting on. "Because living like this cannot be fun."

Jessie gave a wan smile. Then she looked down and squirmed. Charlotte could tell she really did not want to be put through any more pain. And Charlotte's exam had been painful. But the reason for the pain? That needed to be addressed and fixed.

She wanted to say no.

"It will help you, Jessie," she whispered. "And even if it does hurt, I will be right there with you. At least the pain will be fore a reason. We have to get through the pain to make you better. Will you let me help you?"

Poor Jessie was fighting back tears. Charlotte felt terribly. The exam had been really bad. Traumatizing even.

"Please?"

She watched Jessie's legs pull themselves together, tightly, like a child that has to pee.

"Okay," she mumbled. No longer looking Charlotte in the eye. No longer smiling.

"I'll meet you at UCLA tomorrow at 11," Charlotte answered. She knew the department would make room for her. They'd all but given up on the girl. If Charlotte wanted to help, they were more than happy to let her try. As long as they didn't have to deal with Jessie and her "weird injury" anymore.

Charlotte turned then and walked out of the backstage lounge area. The dancers that had surrounded her had gone. Intermission was over.

Charlotte headed back to her car. For some reason, she didn't feel like watching the rest of the ballet.

SO sorry I haven't updated in forever. Clearly I got sidetracked. But next chap will be about Char and Cooper, plus Jessie. Then Addison will be getting into the story. I just wanted to type this up quickly (obviously) because I wanted to give you readers something as opposed to nothing. But the next chapter thankfully will be much more fleshed out than this one. And will include new aspects of the specialty of sexology and women's health.


	9. Chapter 9

"Montgomery," she let her voice carry down the hall, and waited for the tall red-head to immerge from her office. She wasn't going to go to her.

Addison stepped out, a polite but not sincere smile on her face.

"What can I do for you, Charlotte?"

"Actually, I thought I'd be doing something for you," Charlotte returned. "Got a patient with acute pubic symphasitis. Ever seen that before?"

Addison blinked, her crooked eyebrows raising. "No." There was a hint of shock and awe in her voice.

Charlotte smirked. Good. "Would you care to observe?"

Addison looked shocked, and excited. "Uh, sure. When?"

"Eleven. At UCLA."

She gaped. "I'll...I'll clear my schedule." She was almost running to her office to clear her appointments before she remembered to call back,

"Thank you, Charlotte!"

"We'll see what she says when this is over."

-At UCLA clinic_-

Jessie, I'd like to bring another doctor in here to observe. Your case is pretty unusual and severe. It's a ob-gyn doctor from my practice, she might have some input on what's going on with you.

"Does it hurt here?" She pressed over Jessie's left ovary.

Jessie winced and nodded.

"What about here?" She pressed over the abdominal tendon attachments.

The face Jessie made then was definitely in the affirmative.

"Okay, Jessie, I'm going to be palpating your pubic bone and groin, very gently. Of course this area is so superficial I could make any spot hurt if I tried, and some spots might be tender just due to their boney protrusions, but if anything hurts just from light touch, you let me know."

Jessie looked fearful. "All those places hurt," she whispered.

Charlotte gave a sympathetic smile. "They might," she answered, "but I need to check and see if there's a pattern, or just make note of exactly what areas hurt."

Jessie looked away, and Charlotte could tell from her expression that she did not want to do this. "Jessie," she spoke up before beginning, "I need you to look at me."

Charlotte began on the outter left edge of the pelvis, right into her side. Jessie winced sharply, pulling away from Charlotte's hand. Charlotte was stunned.

She exchanged glances with Addison. "Jessie," Addison spoke up, as Charlotte knew she would, "have you had your kidneys checked?"

She nodded.

"What about your ovaries? Any cysts?"

She shook her head. "No."

This isn't going to go well, Charlotte realized. She moved her hand, following along the outter rim of Jessie's pelvis. Every single spot she touched made Jessie wince with pain. The closer Charlotte came to the musculature of the pubic symphasis, the more pain Jessie was in. Charlotte let out an audible sigh.

"Extreme sensitivity over the pubic symphasis." She noted aloud.

"Now I'd like to look at the groin attachments where your leg muscles connect to your pelvis."

As she motioned for Jessie to bend her leg up, then let it fall out, resting on Charlotte's shoulder for support, of course- she sure didn't want to add more problems, Charlotte felt slightly thoughtless.

When she'd been lying on her back with her legs together, it hadn't been thought of but now, with her legs splayed- poor Jessie was buck naked. Usually Charlotte would use a sheet for privacy, but considering the specific location of the pain, it just wasn't possible.

Then she remembered Addison. Great. Someone else staring at her junk. She sighed. She sure wouldn't like it.

"Dr. Montgomery has seen a lot worse than this," she smiled at Jessie, in apology for her having her patient out skin to the wind n' all.

"This is like lookin' at a wall."

Jessie gave a wan smile and shrugged. "Whatever."

At least, on Addision's part, she would look slightly away, respecting Jessie's privacy.

"Have you had a lot of examinations like this?" Addison asked.

"Ow!"

Jessie yelled, and immediately clamped her hand down, moving Charlotte's hand from her gracilis origin.

"I take it that spot hurts, too?"

"That hurts worst," she answered. "My inner thighs are the worst."

"And this started on your left leg? Then what?"

"Then my right leg, in the same spot, then my abs, then my pubic bone."

It went untreated for too long. Now, from lack of support and proper treatment, and poor treatment, a torn leg muscle had developed into full blown pubic symphasitis.

Sure enough, as Charlotte checked all the tiny tendons and muscles that attached at the pubic bone, each one was extremely sensitive, hot to the touch, and painful for Jessie.

"I can see why you've been sitting on ice," Charlotte muttered.

Addison realized her question wasn't going to get answered, but from Jessie's who cares attitude, likely she'd been poked and prodded and stared at by every doctor in the area.

"Does it hurt underneath your pubic bone?" Charlotte asked.

Jessie nodded. "Yeah. Inside. It hurts everywhere. At the base of my pubic bone, the front of the bone, the top, underneath, and inside."

"Has the bone itself become inflammed?" Addison asked, keeping her tone low.

Charlotte nodded.

"Jessie, I need you to roll over on your stomach. Wanna see how the back of your hips are feelin'."

With some difficulty, Jessie complied.

As she did so, Charlotte noticed stretch marks and cellulite on the backs of Jessie's thighs. She smiled to herself, thinking of poor Abbie. At least she's not alone.

Pressing on the bony projections of the hips proved to be just as painful as anywhere else.

Addison shook her head in shock. "Is there anywhere that doesn't hurt her?" She whispered.

Jessie answered the question herself, while Charlotte gave the other doctor a look that said, shut up! You're supposed to be watchin' not talkin'.

"My face." But everywhere else hurts now too, since my pain meds do nothing. All my muscles have tensed up from the pain."

Pressing directly into the flesh of the buttock caused Jessie to yell in pain again. Feeling down the length of the hamstrings showed just how deeply this injury had affected her.

"One more thing, and we'll be done," Charlotte announced. "Dr. Montgomery,"she nodded to the chest of metal drawers, "if you can just grab a sheet, I'll do a quick internal exam."

Jessie groaned in loathing.

"not like last time," she assured her.

It didn't take long to figure out that the outter musclular damage had caused internal issues as well. Simply pressing one finger at the very base of Jessie's vaginal opening Charlotte was shocked again at the tense musculature.

"Jessie, do you feel that?"

She looked up and saw Jessie nodding.

"That hurt?"

Jessie looked at her like she was crazy. "Yeah," she answered.

"Do you know what I'm pressing on?"

"That's a bone, right? Part of my pelvis?"

Charlotte shook her head sadly. "No honey, what you feel me pressing on, that thing that feels hard as a bone, is your muscle. That muscle is supposed to be smooth and flat, which as you can tell, it's definiely not."

"Shit," Jessie answered. "That's really bad, isn't it?"

"Do you have pain inside your vagina?" Addison asked.

She nodded. "A lot. Like being stabbed with a knife."

Addison looked sidelong at Charlotte, who was finishing up the exam.

"Vaginismus."

The blonde nodded.

"Not to mention the internal muscles are trying to overcompensate, to hold the pelvis and support it, since none of the usual muscles are able to do that right now."

Alone, while Jessie was getting dressed, Charlotte cornered Addision. "I can do the pelvic floor work. Some PRP injections."

"To her pubic bone?" Addison looked sick.

Charlotte nodded.

"You can treat the vaginismus," she offered. "It'll be a start anyway."

"But if you can't get the pelvic and leg muscles stabalized, it will just come back."

"Let's treat her pain first, let the injured muscles heal, then work on strengthening."

The idiots over here had her doing strengthening before the muscles were healed, which resulted in further injury."

"That's how this got so bad," Addison muttered.

She nodded. "Yup."

"The kid's popping ice cubes in her vagina to cope with the pain."

Addision shut her eyes and squeezed her legs together. "Oh my god," she hissed.

"I'm giving her morphine."

"I agree. At least until this is under control. But no lifting, no bending, no separating her legs-"

Charlotte interuppted her. "If you mean sex, I don't think that's even on the girl's radar right now. Literally every single spot on her body from her belly button down to her knees hurts."

"I'd be thinking of a gun," she muttered.

Solo, Charlotte entered the exam area.

"Jessie, it's definite that you have a severe case of pubic symphasitis. Now, that's serious. The bones themselves are inflammed, and if we're not careful, it won't just be the tendons that attach your leg muscles to your pubic bone that are tearing- it'll be your pubic symphasis itself tearing. That's the tendon that holds your pelvis together," she explained.

"I've spoken with Dr. Montgomery and she concures that you also have a case of vaginismus. Both of these problems we can work together on to treat. I'd like to do protein rich plasma injections into the sensitive areas, the tendons themselves. What I'll do is take some of your own blood and inject it into the torn and weakened tendons and muscles."

"Dr. Montgomery will do a similar procedure first, to help to relax your vaginal muscles. If we can get both sides to calm down and have time to heal, you should be on the road to recovery in about a month or two."

Poor Jessie looked exhausted.

"Whatever," she answered.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yeah. I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes so that I can dance again. I can barely walk."

"You shouldn't be walking," Charlotte answered. "Even sitting up should be kept to a bare minimum. You need to be lying flat in bed as much as possible."

She gave Jessie two sheets of paper.

"This here is an appointment with Dr. Montgomery for pelvic floor injections."

Jessie looked panicked.  
"Are you going to be there?"

Charlotte held back a laugh. Wasn't plannin' on it, that's for sure.

"Uh..sure if you'd like."

"Yeah, I would." She answered.

"Okay then. We want to get this started with as soon as possible. Tomorrow I'll see you with Dr. Montgomery, then we'll go from there."

"And this," she pointed to the other paper, "is something that should make being on bed rest a lot easier. It's a scrip for morphine. One in the morning, one before bed. And no driving at all. Have someone bring you tomorrow. Even without these drugs, you'll be in no condition to drive yourself home tomorrow after the procedure."

Jessie sighed. 'Sounds great."


	10. Chapter 10

_Yes, this is a real medical procedure, but not commonly performed. The procedure Charlotte's going to do is even less common and yes will be acurately detailed as well. The drugs and steroids used may vary. Only a trained ob-gyn can perform this procedure. It's not an easy one. And the side effect that occurs at the end is also a real side-effect. More on it later, along with how I know all this. :)_

"Wait, you're gonna do what?" Cooper was laughing at her. It wasn't just disbelief, he was laughing.

Charlotte was pissed. "What?" She demanded.

He laughed again, barely able to stay upright. "You hate needles!" He insisted.

She glared at him and spat out the obvious correction. "I hate gettin' jabbed with needles."

"But you're going to be jabbing your patient with needles!" He was agahst.

"Get over it."

"A lot of needles!"

"In very delicate, sensitive, probably really painful if you jabbed them with a needle areas!"

"Cooper, I'm trained to do this. Now shut your yap."

"But should you be doing this?"

She threw a plate at him.

"You're a holy terror, you know that? Nobody questions your doctorin' abilities, least of all me! I do something that most doctors don't have the balls to do, and you're all over me!"

"Forget I said anything," she muttered.

"I wish I could. I _really_ wish I could," he answered, sincere wincing just at the thought. Was she crazy? She had to be crazy. He'd never heard of doing a procedure like this before. He shuddered. Gross.

The next day, Charlotte was sitting in her office, feeling the warmth of the sun at her back, enjoying it and the quiet while she made the pens in her pencil holder circle around her finger, swirling the mass in a circle, just enjoying the nothingness. The lack of pressing need. The calm relaxed-ness that was the practice, as opposed to the constant pressure and adreneline of St. Ambrose.

Jessie was barely a thought in her mind. PRP was a week away. Addison had the hard work today.

She sighed aloud.

"This is nice."

She sighed again.

Almost like vacation, she thought. Compared to the hospital. But she'd be damned to let anyone here know that. They all thought of this place as work.

So let them think that. That's why she always kept her door closed, shades drawn. Let them think I'm working, she mused. Though most of the time I am. Just...not now.

"Are you ready?"

Charlotte jumped in her seat and felt her heart stop.

With a gasp she looked up at Addision, standing expectantly in her doorway.

"What?"

"Jessie's all set."

She shrugged. "Good for her."

Addison stayed put where she was. Charlotte wondered why. Instead of asking, she simply stated,

"You're doin' this procedure, Montgomery, not me."

It was like getting out of a test, or not doing homework.

"I don't have to do that (meaning _her_ procedure) till next week."

"Jessie wants you in there."

Are you crazy? Was the look she gave her.

She didn't seem to get the point.

"That's not medically necessary. I'm not your damn nurse," she grumbled.

"You told Jessie you'd be there with her today."

"I did no such thing. Can think of funner ways to spend the day than watching a kid get needles shoved into her vagina."

"She's expecting you in there, Charlotte!"

"All I told her was to make sure she brings someone with her to take her home. Isn't that person going to be in there with her?"

"Definitely not. I checked, and I quote, "Jessie told me what was going to get done to her. I'll just wait out here. But if there's screaming, I'll be outside, waiting in the car."

"Better not be screaming," Charlotte said the words under her breath, without realizing it. Thinking more on the invasive procedure that she would be preforming than the one Addison was prepping.

"So, no. This person is definitely not going to be there for moral support."

"Can't say I blame her."

"Thanks, Charlotte."

Charlotte stayed put. Giving no indication she planed on being anywhere than behind her desk.

"I do need someone in there with me."

"Get a nurse."

"You said you'd be there."

"I did not! I oughta know what I said! All I told her was what I said. I never said I'd be there with her. Or," she considered since she really couldn't remember what she said but she knew she'd have promised the moon if it'd get the kid in here, "if I did it was just a stall tactic, a way to get her in here for the procedure. I sure as hell didn't have any intention of following though on it."

"Would you like me to tell Jessie that?" Addison smiled at her in a bitchy "and I'll do it, too",way.

"You're going to be doing an even worse procedure on her, Charlotte. I can't see why you'd be scared now."

"I'm never scared."

"Right."

She shooed her. "Go deal with your patient."

Addison grinned in a sickening way, then thew Charlotte's door fully open. "Let's go, Dr. King!"

She said it loud enough for the whole damn office to hear, and all the patients.

"God damn you," Charlotte muttered, glaring at the tall woman like she hated her. Which, she did.

She blew into the exam room, which Charlotte knew Addison chose for a simple procedure but was probably now thinking she should have chosen the birthing suite.

"Just cuz she's a dancer doesn't mean she has that high a pain threshold." She hissed the words calculated to sting as she brushed past the doctor and into the room.

Arms crossed, Charlotte stood sullen, as Addison's witness.

Better not think I'm gonna hold her hand, she thought bitterly.

She stood slightly behind Addison.

Addison quickly explained the procedure. Roughly translated it was simply,

"I'm going to inject you first with lydocain then the steroid injection. And that'll be it."

Jessie seemed apprehensive, but nothing Addison said had been enough to trigger anything more severe than that.

Addison was keeping her patient calm by not telling her anything close to the whole truth. Ignorance is bliss reasoning. Knowing the procedure, no way would Charlotte get it done on herself. She knew Addison wouldn't either.

"If you can just scoot down, all the way," Addison began.

In her pink paper gown, Jessie did as told, adjusting the paper tissue sheet drapped over her legs.

"Okay, put your feet in the stirrups."

Jessie, tried, missing once, as the sheet obstructed her view.

Charlotte noticed Jessie wasn't wearing socks. She saw that her toenails were painted red, and that her toes still looked like she just woke up and hit them with a hammer.

Hope her feet don't get cold.

Charlotte and Addison both knew what Jessie did not. This was going to be a long procedure.

"Allright, Jessie, I'm just going to swab the area with some betodine first," she muttered.

Everything needed for the procedure was at Addison's right side on two trays. The vials of lydocaine,syringes, vials of mercadine, betodine, gloves, and in case she tore Jessie's perinium during the procedure, a suture kit.

Charlotte tried to stay where she wouldn't be able to see much. At the sight of the needles, especially their size, all the muscles in her neck and shoulder tensed up. She closed her eyes.

"Charlotte," Addison's voice came so low she barely heard her.

Shaken into stronger professionalism she opened her eyes and stood straighter, then looked at Addison, seated on the rolling stool.

She looked pointedly at her. "I'll need you to," she looked at her meaningfully, "keep her focused."

The emphasis was on the word "focused" and Charlotte knew what the double board certified doctor was trying to say without saying the words- keep the patient from freaking out once she finds out how hellacious this is going to be.

Charlotte watched her gloved hand grab the 19 gauge needle, and pull the lydocaine.

"Okay, Jessie, are you ready?"

Charlotte looked up. Jessie was staring right at the ceiling, hands clasped over her chest.

"I'll need you to hold really, really still," Addison reminded her. "These needles are going to be going into very sensitive areas. The last thing I want is for you to end up with a perenial tear."

Jessie nodded. Her muscles all so stiff, Charlotte could see them sticking out like body builder's muscles. She wondered if Jessie knew what perenial tear meant. It was possible, if she knew anyone who'd had kids. Or if she watched those birthing shows on TV.

"I'm going to inject the lydocain first, so that the steroid won't hurt."

_What you're not telling her is how much getting a shot of lydocain is going to hurt. _Charlotte glared at Addison.

"Here we go,"

Charlotte had to give the kid credit. She was more relaxed than she'd be. Then again, it was because she had no idea

She heard Jessie suck in a breath and let out a cry of pain. Charlotte saw her toes curl in the stirrups.

"Just hold on," Addison murmered. "Stay still. Breathe."

It got worse as she pushed more of the solution. Charlotte tried not to see Jessie's lip wobbling and quivering, or the tears in her eyes.

"Charlotte." Addison kept her voice low.

She looked at Addison, only to see that Addison wasn't looking at her to give a direction. Then Charlotte realized that with a large needle inserted now inside a girl's vagina, she wasn't about to take her eyes off the task at hand.

Charlotte remembered her request.

"Just breathe, Jessie," she spoke up. "Just take deep breaths in through your nose."

The privacy sheet was shaking, because Jessie was shaking. Her entire face screwed up, red with pain.

She lay there still for the most part, crying.

"Jessie, I need you to tell me when the burning sensation stops. Let me know when you can't feel it anymore."

Poor Jessie looked like she was going to vomit.

I'm gonna give this hell bitch what for when this is over, Charlotte told herself. Letting this poor girl thing this wasn't going to hurt. And Charlotte knew Jessie thought this because she hadn't even been worried enough to ask, "Is this going to hurt?" She'd believed that her doctors would not hurt her. Or that if they were going to, they'd at least tell her first.

Finally Addison asked, "Does it still hurt?"

It was clearly difficult for the patient to speak through the pain. Slowly she tried to gather herself. She sniffled, swallowed the mucus in her mouth from held back tears and answered in a shaky voice, "Not that bad."

Not that bad compared to being stepped on by an elephant. Charlotte rolled her eyes, pissed as hell and not going to stop. She was going to kill Addison.

"Okay, I'll put in the steroid now."

The mercadine didn't take nearly as long.

"How are you feeling, Jessie?"

"Okay," she whispered.

"Good," She could hear the smile in Addison's voice. She wanted to slap her.

"Allright, I'm going to start the next one."

Charlotte just happened to be looking at Jessie, whose eyes were still smartly trained on the ceiling tile above her, at that moment. At Addison's words, she watched Jessie's face fall. Could almost hear her thoughts of dread and fear and oh god not again. Her lower lip puckered up and her mouth looked like an upside down U. She's dreading it. I don't blame her.

The second injection Jessie cried out loudly in pain, open mouthed, and instinctively tried to move back at the pain.

"Hold still!" Charlotte barked. "You have to hold still."

Jessie was outright wimpering and crying now.

"I know this really hurts, Jessie, but it's going to stop."

Jessie just kept crying.

Worried, Charlotte looked quickly at Addison. Trying not to betray her fear, she forced her voice calm and casual as she asked, "Everything allright?"

Addison just nodded.

Jessie continued to gasp in pain as the lydocain burned into the delicate tissue.

When the girl's gasping slowed, and her toes weren't so tightly clentched, Addion asked again if she could feel either the needle or the solution.

Jessie shook her head.

Good. In went the mercadine.

Charlotte watched the tense muscles of Jessie's body relax as the pain finally subsided.

"Okay, about six more to go."

The look on Jessie's face mirrored Charlotte's.

Oh my god. Holy shit. She was about to ask Addison, "Is that really necessary?" but decided it to be unprofessional.

Jessie's entire body was shaking uncontrolably. Charlotte felt sorry for her. When the pain stopped, Addison prepped the next syringe. Then as it, and Addison's hand went under the drape, Charlotte could only watch and hear Jessie scream in pain and jerk her entire body backward away from the pain.

Charlotte's eyes grew wide as she looked to Addison. It was too late to tell Jessie not to move. As if hearing Dr. King's racing thoughts Addison spoke low,

"It's alright. I hit an area that the lydocain hadn't numbed. It was my mistake."

"I'd have jumped away too."

"Sorry, Jessie," she spoke louder. "I hit the wrong spot. Scoot back down for me so I can get it right this time."

Charlotte was unable to keep in a snort of laughter at the look on Jessie's face.

It said clear as a bell, are you crazy? I'm not letting you go back in there and make it worse!"

Charlotte quickly coughed, but didn't bother hiding her smile.

"The sooner we do this, the sooner it's over."

Charlotte glanced at her watch. So far they'd been actively doing this procedure for an hour. It was slow going. Slow and painful as hell.

Finally Jessie complied.

Addison was injecting another round of lydocaine when Charlotte noticed that something was off. There was a glassy look to Jessie's eyes. She was calm, oddly.

She looked back at Addison. Addison was doing the procedure as if nothing was unusual.

Charlotte was thinking, Well she's done more of these than I have. She knows what she's doing-

When she saw a look of panic in Jessie's eyes.

She brought her head up off the table, and opened her mouth trying to speak.

Not a single coherent word came out. It all sounded garbled, sounds but no words. The panicked look on her face increased ten-fold.

She can't talk, Charlotte realized in horror.

Finally Jessie put up a hand in a "Stop" sign.

"Addison, stop! Stop!" Charlotte cried.

Completely calm, not having seen what Charlotte did, Addison looked up.

"What's wrong?"

"Addison stop the procedure! Something's wrong. She can't talk!"

She looked back at Jessie who was panicked.

"She can't make words!"


	11. Chapter 11

First of all, before we go any further- does anyone have any questions about the last chap or so? Do I need to clarify the procedure Addison performed? It was shown once on PP, but it wasn't entirely accurate in it's portrayal. Close enough, I suppose. But it's more painful than they showed, and a little more complicated.

Cuz, I need to know before we move on from this. If I need to clarify, I'll add it up here in the edits. Just comment your question, or message it. Didn't mean for it to go on this long, but A. it's an unusual and complicated procedure, and B. this is a very serious side effect of this procedure, so I figure it kinda deserves to be fleshed out. Hope that's okay with you all.

Story-

The look on Addison's face said, "Crap."

She rose quickly, but not so quickly as to appear panicked.

"Jessie, are you okay?"

Eyes wide, Jessie shook her head.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Jessie opened her mouth, and as Charlotte had seen, her mouth was moving coherently, as one would, she clearly wanted to tell them what happened. At first her lips moved, but no sound came out, then with a lot of effort, just grunting noises.

Addison glanced at Charlotte.

You fucked up, was the look she gave back.

Addison rolled a vitals cart over. Charlotte hooked it up.

Her blood pressure was high for her, in the upper 80's. Her base, she'd learned was in the 60's.

Addison then grabbed a flashlight.

"Open your mouth," she instructed.

With a cursory glance, Charlotte watched Addison evaluate everything she was checking for to be in working order.

"Jessie, keep tryin' to talk," Charlotte said this as she was using the flashlight in Jessie's eyes, checking for brain swelling. She saw nothing unusual. (Did you know that's what doctor's use that for? It's not really to check your eyes, it's to look at your brain.)

This time when Jessie spoke, Charlotte could make out individual words, or things that sounded like individual words, but it all sounded like a record played backward.

Addison looked worried.

"Get Amelia," Charlotte hissed.

"She's not here," Addison kept her voice cheery, but was already stepping to the door. She leaned out and Charlotte could hear her hissing for "Pete or Sam, both or whoever's closest!" in a very urgent tone.

Charlotte made sure Jessie was covered.

Having no idea what else to say, and not entirely sure if it was true or not she tried to comfort Jessie with, "This is just a side-effect of the procedure. Your heart rate is normal for someone just going through hell, everything else is normal."

Sam's voice interuppted her.

"Can you understand what Dr. King is saying?"

Damn. Why the hell didn't I think of that?

Jessie nodded.

"keep tryin' to talk," Charlotte smiled.

Jessie looked pissed. "Ut el oo t ooo ey?"

Charlotte couldn't understand it, but she understood the pissed of it.

She shrugged. "I pretty much got that."

She smirked when she heard Sam take Addison in the hall and hiss in a not so quiet tone, "What the hell did you do? This girl comes in for a gynelogical procedure and now she can't speak? That's brain damage, Addison!"

"I don't know what to say, Sam. I've never seen this happen before. I'm not even sure what happened."

"Brain damage!" He hissed again.

"You better get in there and fix your patient!"

He was scared. Hell, she was too.

"You're starting to make more sense, now," Charlotte spoke again to Jessie. It was a lie, but she wanted to make the poor kid feel better. She must be scared senseless.

"Ut it e oo oo e?"

"Still can't make words," Charlotte stated when Addison entered the room again.

Charlotte wiped out her prescription pad and a pen and handed it to the girl.

Quickly Jessie wrote " whta did thta btich do?

Charlotte read it and handed the paper to Addison.

"Clearly this isn't just a speech problem."

Addison wasn't the cursing type, but Charlotte could tell all she was thinking right now was, "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

"Keep trying to talk, Jessie," was what she said out loud.

"Tell us what happened," Charlotte added, thinking that possibly the longer they kept Jessie talking for, the better.

"The lydocaine could have affected her mouth, like a trip to the dentist, making it difficult to form words," Addison muttered.

"But you didn't put that anywhere near her mouth," Charlotte countered, "and clearly it's not just word formation but ordering that's impaired."

Charlotte checked Addison's trays. The last syringe she'd used to inject Jessie had blood in it. Jessie's thighs were bloody.

She cornered Addison, continuing to listen to Jessie, "there's blood all over," she whispered.

"That is normal." Addison was confident in that, at least.

"And," she added, "in the last syringe you used, but not the others."

"Sometimes that happens."

"Is that supposed to happen?"

"No. But drawing up blood can't cause this," Addison objected.

"You got another explaination?"

"en oo tart ed"

Sam stepped forward.

"Wait. Were you trying to say "when"?"

She nodded.

"Try it again, say "when"."

She had trouble getting her lips to make the "wh" part. All she could say was the 'en'.

"I uz dizzy," she made out the words slowly. She spoke, Charlotte thought, like a mentally retarded person. And, she considered, if Jessie was now mentally retarded, it was all Addison Montgomery's fault.

"Do you know what year it is?" Sam asked this question, as if it were more urgent than getting her to speak. "Do you know who is President of the United States right now?"

Jessie looked at Sam like he was nuts, but she nodded.

"Tell me. What year is it?"

Charlotte looked at Addison. This was getting scary as hell.

Jessie looked at Addison and Charlotte to check if the man in front of her were sane.

"2012," she answered.

Sam was visibly relieved.

"Call the hospital," Charlotte ordered.

"It's wearing off," Addison objected. "I still need to finish the procedure."

Sam wheeled on her. "You're joking, right? Your procedure is done!"

Addison turned to Jessie instead. "Tell me what happened, what did you notice when I was giving you that last injection?"

"M-m-m-m-my m-m-mouth fel-elt funny. My br-brain felt-"

She stopped then, mouth open. She wasn't even trying to make a word.

Sam was dialing 911 on his phone, and stepped into the hall.

Several long seconds later Jessie said, "strange," finishing her sentence.

"I was dizzy. I th-though-thought some-t-ing was," another very long pause where Jessie was motionless, "...wrong. I tried to tell you, b-but, I c-c-cou-could not speak."

"Are you having difficulty making words?"

Duh.

"When you stopped talking just then," Charlotte asked slowly, "what was happening? Were you having trouble making the word?"

Jessie opened her mouth quickly, obviously eager to explain what they'd just witnessed, "I" then she paused again.

She seemed frustrated trying to force a word out, but no sound came, her lips didn't move.

"forgot wh-what the w-w-word was I...wanted to say."

"And the second time?" Charlotte asked.

There was a long pause before Jessie spoke. "I couldn't re-rem-mem-mem-ber h-ow to," she stopped speaking again.

"make the word," she finished.

_Shit._

Go ahead, review. Or, just comment. I can't wait to tell you more about this. Awful, right?


	12. Chapter 12

Allright, I've been informed by more than one person that I forgot a crucial part of this procedure, something that as I was reminded, was definitely not shown on Private Practice with Addison and that woman who'd never had sex- because she'd have had to have a nurse or assistant to help insert something called 'a wheel', which (was reminded of this too) is why specifically a doctor would be worried about a woman's perenium tearing- because this expansive device is popped into the tissue, forcing immediate expansion of the skin and underlying muscles.

Best explanation of it is this: pinch your thumb and first finger together. Now imagine cutting part of your leg open, just wide enough to fit the tip of your pinched thumb and finger inside of it. Now let your thumb and first finger separate as wide as possible- that's what the wheel does. It's very compact, but when put inside and in place, it immediately acts like a spring, springs open to it's widest possible extent, forcing the skin to open (or tear) to accommodate it. It makes manipulating the needle for this semi-surgical procedure a lot easier. (The needle does not stay still as in a shot). More painful for the patient, but easier for the doctor. Yay for them, I guess. One reader volunteered to share this with me and to print it here for you. Thank you!

"I wondered why there was so much blood, when all they were supposed to be doing was sticking needles into me. Not drawing blood, not cutting into me. Never dawned on me that they would intentionally keep me in the dark about the details of what they were really doing to me. After finding so much blood on me, I checked the bio-hazard trashcan they used. The needles of course went into the needle bin. But in the trash I found the sheet I'd been lying on soaked in blood like I'd gotten all 7 days worth of menstral blood on it. Why would that be if they were simply injecting me with drugs? Then these bendy plastic sticks only about as wide as my finger but ranging in lengths from 3 to 4 inches, and something that looked like the wheel of a bike, with the spokes cut off- all covered in blood. Was that why it hurt so much? Why there was so much blood. Why the dr actually spoke about tearing? I found a tear, that'd been stitched without my knowledge, but I still don't know if that was from them inserting the wheel thing, or them cutting me open to get the wheel into my skin. Stretching the skin and muscles seems to be very important. (Clearly FF I left that out) I remember the most painful part in the beginning was this horrible tearing stretching sensation, very similar to delivering a baby's head. That horrible, horrid, burning searing pain. But I thought I was crazy, as I thought they were only poking needles into me. "

"Is the dizziness going away?" Addison asked.

Jessie nodded.

"You can speak normally now, or much better than earlier, the dizziness has gone away, I think we should continue with the procedure."

Charlotte stared at her.

Addison looked at her and added, "if we don't finish it now, we risk compromising the success of the procedure. Jessie this is an adverse reaction, but as it is starting to fade, I'd say it's an abberation. And this is part of what you need to do to recover-"

"If it compromises her ability to think, is it worth it?" Sam questioned looking daggers at her.

He disapproved. Clearly.

"I don't see any danger in continuing. When the procedure is complete you can be transported via ambulance to St. Ambrose for a brain scan."

"And if you do make this worse, Addison-"

"If she wants to walk again," her voice was terse, 'this is the starting point. If we do nothing, she will never regain normal mobility. She'll be in crippling pain for the rest of her life."

"Let's go," Jessie's voice was clear. She moved back into position.

Addison scooted forward on her stool and pulled new gloves on.

"Charlotte if you can hand me the wheel."

Dr. King grabbed the plastic disc. Addison inserted it inside Jessie's skin.

Jessie screamed in pain.

Addison winced.

"I'm sorry Jessie, I was hoping that area was still anesthetized. I didn't want to give you any more mercadine as that was what seemed to have started this."

She grabbed a syringe of lydocaine.

"I'm going to inject more."

As the needle penetrated her muscles, Jessie began sobbing in pain once again, her body rigid as steel.

Charlotte noticed then that sweat was running down Jessie's body. She glanced over at Sam.

She was only partly surprised he hadn't left the room, but she knew he considered himself a safe-gaurd against Addison's insanity. He was determidely looking at the door.

As Jessie's cries slowed to whimpering, Addison injected the mercadine.

"Jessie, your muscles are already responding to the procedure."

"Feel this?"

Jessie looked at her in confusion.

"I was pressing directly on your gracilis muscle. It's as loose as it should be. That's what you thought was bone before," she smiled.

Jessie just nodded.

"Say something," Sam spoke up.

Charlotte wasn't sure who he was speaking to, then she realized he wanted Jessie to speak, to make certain she still could.

Jessie was just as confused as belatedly she answered, "That's good."

"Hopefully," Addison inserted the next needle without warning this time, waited for Jessie to stop screaming, then finished, "once I finish this side, your bi-lateral leg muscles will be nice and relaxed."

"Though you'll be in a lot of pain after," Charlotte added.

Addison stopped what she was doing, and since Jessie was back to staring at the ceiling tile, glared at Charlotte.

Charlotte scoffed, knowing Addison was going to have a word or two to say once the patient was out of ear shot.

Instead of saying what she was thinking to Charlotte Addison added,

"Actually, it shouldn't be that bad. I'll give you a prescription for oxy if you need it for the pain, but ideally you shouldn't."

Charlotte watched Jessie's body shake, followed the trails of tears and sweat down her skin. She only noticed then that she was sweating too.

Least this will make my job easier, she mused. Once Jessie'd gotten through this, Charlotte's procedure wouldn't seem so bad. Granted, it was worse, but compared to not giving birth and never having gone through this much pubic pain, it would be less traumatizing for her.

"All right," Addison smiled and began to strip her gloves off, " all done."

"Here's a towel," she handed a medium sized hand towel to Jessie, "to clean yourself off with."

"I'll be in to check on you shortly."

Charlotte wasn't that eager to leave. She helped Jessie to sit up.

"All right?" She asked.

Jessie nodded.

"Take your time. If you feel dizzy at all, just lie down again and wait."

"No," Jessie answered. Charlotte could tell the kid wanted to get the hell out of there. She didn't blame her after what she'd just been put through.

"I'm okay." The words were still very slow. Charlotte could tell it was unintentional.

She helped her stand and had her walk around the exam room a few times. Sam left then. And with assurances from Jessie, Charlotte did the same.

Thirty minutes later Charlotte was at St. Ambrose checking on Jessie's test results.

"Nothing," she muttered. "Now how the hell is that possible?"

"Best guess is that the drug went directly to the brain and impaired her ability to speak. Her brain was overwhelmed by the drug."

"It wasn't supposed to go directly into her brain."

"You know how many major arteries end right where Addison was working," Amelia countered, "if Addison was off even the tiniest amount"

"She was," Charlotte was convinced. "Blood got drawn up into the needle. That should not have happened."

"From what Addy says, it's a very delicate procedure."

"I was there, Amelia, the kid couldn't talk!"

She shrugged. "The scans show nothing. No permanent damage, nothing at all. My neuro exam did show that she has a delayed response, speech slurring, as well as verbal and written transposition. But again, nothing shows up on the scan saying it's a huge problem."

"What's wrong with you people?" Charlotte blazed. "The girl gets her lady-town checked out and all of a sudden can't talk, and you think it's not a huge problem?"

"Have her come back in a week and I'll re-check her," was all she said.

Charlotte huffed and turned on a heel to storm away.

"If her symptoms get worse, have her come back."

"Yeah," Charlotte muttered, "like, she dies or something."

Shortened as much as possible. Next chapter? Charlotte.


	13. Chapter 13

"Cooper's being an ass," she began. She leaned back in the booth, slouching into the cushion.

"What's the problem now?" Jane smiled when she said this, but it was obvious that she was amused.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I know, when is he not bein' an ass?" She sighed, then planted her feet on the floor and leaned forward.

"He's bein' a bitch about this procedure. Tellin' me I can't do it, that I shouldn't do it- mostly that I can't." She pursed her lips and glared as if seeing Cooper's face.

"Well," Jane asked calmly, "can you do this procedure?"

"Of course I can!" She snapped, with perhaps a bit more venom than intended.

"I mean, it's a horrible, god-awful procedure, and after what this kid went through just last week..." she shook her head. "I couldn't do it."

"But you're fine on your end?"

"Good as gold. I do what needs doin'. And this poor kid needs to have this done. Glad she's coming to me. Most doctors haven't even heard of this procedure let alone how to do it properly."

"And I'll tell ya one thing," Charlotte pointed a finger at Jane, "my procedure sure as hell won't leave my patient unable to talk."

Jane let out a low whistling breath, stirring her drink with her cocktail straw. "Yeah, that sounded pretty bad."

Charlotte downed her drink and began to rise from the table. "Well, I better get goin'. Gotta get some sleep. Sure can't afford to be glossy eyed tomorrow."

"What about your food? They didn't even bring the appetizers yet!"

Her nose wrinkled. "I'm not really hungry right now."

Jane kicked out a crossed leg. "Can't say I blame you. Well," she rose and hugged Charlotte, "I'll just wish you good luck for tomorrow."

Charlotte returned the hug, then securing her purse on her shoulder walked purposefully to the door calling back over her shoulder,

"Won't need luck!"

Which was a hellofalot more confident than she actually felt.

-page Break-

She was armed with a metal table full of syringes. All Jessie had was tissue paper sheet. Which Charlotte had just removed.

It really can't be that fun to have your genitals stared at, she considered, especially when you're definitely not going to get any good, decent, or non-painful action from it.

Charlotte King was grateful to note, since she'd forgotten to mention it, that her patient had taken care to remove all traces of body hair in the area in question. Charlotte just hoped she'd hadn't done it recently, otherwise swabbing the area would be painful.

"All right, Jessie, we're going to start by figuring out just what areas you're feeling pain, just as in our last exam. Every point that is tender, I'll put a mark on with marker.

Charlotte started on the outter rim of the pelvic girdle.

Jessie nodded.

Charlotte put a single marker dot. Then pressed about an inch away. Another nod.

Another dot.

Carefully she pressed at the the center of her pubic bone. She wasn't about to press on the girl's clit, that would be too much. But directly above the clit hood itself, to the left and to the right, which, poor Jessie was unlikely to know was anatomically speaking, still the clit. Jessie sucked in a breath each time. Clearly those areas were the most painful.

Charlotte held back a shudder. Mark, mark, mark.

If one were to give the shape of a triangle to Jessie's pubic bone, with a line down the middle of the triangle, there were 8 dots on the bone itself on one side of the line, and 8 on the other. On the underside there were four on each side.

Basically, by the time Charlotte King was done mapping her patient's pain areas, Jessie's pubic area and inner thighs looked like a connect-the-dots game.

Charlotte was sweating already. This was not going to fun.

_Just breathe. Stay calm. Professional. Focused. You are helping your patient, not hurting her. _

She wasn't sure how she managed it without passing out, but Charlotte then said aloud, "What we'll do is put an injection into each area marked where you have the pain sensation. That should increase blood flow to the area, helping the muscles and tendons to heal faster."

Charlotte knew Jessie heard nothing after the word, "marked". The look on Jessie's face was one of horror.

She knew full well that Jessie hadn't realized when Charlotte began marking with the pen that each mark would equal a needle stick.

Charlotte hadn't provided that information intentionally. If Jessie knew that literally each area that hurt had to be injected she would have lied like hell.

The look on Jessie's face clearly said,

"Damn it. Shit!" Then, "I shouldn't've said yes."

"Can I change my answers?" Her brow was crinkled, and the smile on her face was meant to seem like the question was a joke, but Charlotte knew it wasn't. Who would want over 20 injections into their pubic bone?

Charlotte simply gave a small smile in answer.

Charlotte glanced across the room at Addison. She was glad the other woman was there.

Addison Montgomery's eyes were wide, her nostrils flares, lip curled upward in a sneer of horrified disgust. This was the doctor's equvilent of a horror movie. She was there to observe, nothing more.

Hell, with what she'd done to Jessie the week before, she oughta be down on her knees thanking the girl that she'd allowed her to watch- but "only watch. You don't come near me. You don't touch me!"

"The sooner we start, the sooner it's over." That was her answer.

To her amazement her voice was calm and professional. Detached.

She thanked God at that moment she'd chosen to allow Addison to observe, and that Addison'd agreed.

Addison was the reason she was keeping her cool. Because professional eyes were on her. Truth be told if it'd been just her and Jessie she might have been weak, tried to convince Jessie to choose less places, or told her about the needles pricks beforehand. Instead of doing what was truly medically best for her patient.

(This is why most trained docs won't do this procedure on women, only men. Women have 40% more pain receptors than men. Meaning they feel more pain.)

"First I'll inject some lydocaine to help numb the area."

What she didn't say, just as with Addison, was how much just getting the painkiller injected was going to hurt. Or, that it's effectiveness in this procedure was pretty dicey.

Charlotte knew she was sweating more, she just hoped that Jessie wasn't looking, or if she was, that she was too focused on her own fate to notice.

Charlotte filled 24 syringes with lydocaine, and with the larger syringes filled them with the thick gel solution.

She grabbed the first syringe.

"You ready?"

Jessie suddenly had her game face on. Jaw steeled. She was trying to look comfortable, even happy, to make Charlotte her audience feel more comfortable.

"Yup," she smiled.

But eyes looked dead. No, Charlotte corrected herself, petrified. Frozen in horror.

"Okay," Charlotte inhaled, wondering if she should have brought in nurses to help hold Jessie down, shit probably should have... putting the tip on her skin.

Get the worst place first. Needle right above the pubic bone itself.

"You're going to feel a little poke," she spoke as she forced her fingers to move. Her voice sounded distant. Like she was speaking from across the Grand Canyon.

Addison had moved closer, as if reading Charlotte's regretful thought about lack of assistance.

Jessie's eyes widened in shock. It was clear she'd prepared herself for pain, but there was no way to prepare yourself for this kind of pain.

The first second, a cry of shock at the pain let loose from Jessie's steeled mouth. But then with great effort she kept her mouth held closed.

As Charlotte pushed the needle in deeper, still trying to remain silent and strong, Jessie began to whimper. Lower lip wobbling, thick tears forming in her eyes.

Charlotte gave the ballerina credit. If someone was pushing a needle into her pubic symphasis, she'd be screaming loud enough to break glass.

And Jessie was still! Charlotte was amazed. And baffled. The human pain response is to get away, move away. But Jessie managed to hold herself still.

But still was good. If Jessie moved at all, the pain would likely be enough to kill her.

"Now for the solution," she muttered. "This might burn a bit."

(I admit I've completely forgotten the name of this procedure. And have found out, as I've been told, that because it's so uncommon, it's hard to find on the internet. So, I'll just call it, Really Painful Needles into Your Pubic Region Procedure. How's that? There's a name for the gel too, but I don't have it.

I've noticed that readership has dropped off recently. It makes me kinda sad. That's all. Especially now when we're getting into the good stuff. I do have one particular source for this procedure. It is an actual ballet dancer. She writes about all this in her blog. I've taken a lot of this from there. Have I said that? Tell me I've told you ladies about this, right? So yes there is a real ballerina out there who's getting this done to her. If you want her blog address, just message me and I'll give it to you. )


	14. Chapter 14

Author's note- just about the only thing I left out was exactly why there was so much blood. It's because the needle after it's in all the way is moved around like an egg beater. Nice, right?

It was a gel solution. Thick. About as thick as toothpaste. Which meant more painful.

Charlotte had no idea how effective the lydocaine could be. Some people couldn't feel a thing, for others, the lydocaine had no effect. The only way to really tell was to stick 'em again.

Jessie's skinny body began to shake from the pain.

Charlotte swallowed._ Guess she's one of the latter._

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Jessie's voice was practiced. The voice of a person used to pain- and having to lie about it.

"Okay, let's get the second one done."

The second one was worse. Or, there was only so much pain Jessie could endure.

The tears rimming her eyes began rolling down her cheeks. She began to shake, trying to control her pain.

"Okay?" Charlotte asked.

With a visible effort, Jessie sniffled, her jaw shaking. She could only answer "Um hmm," in the affirmative. Since it didn't require unclenching her jaw.

Third one Jessie was whimpering and gasping.

By the fourth she was crying aloud.

Fifth she was sobbing.

Then she started screaming through a clenched jaw as the pain became unbearable.

Charlotte's mind drifted to the people in the waiting room, knowing they could hear her.

As Charlotte injected the 7th vial, she saw Jessie's hand unclench from around it's mate, and she grabbed for Charlotte's arm- the one holding the needle.

It was an unconcious movement, she knew. Purely a self-preservation measure. Only a response to pain. And since no one was holding her down, she could move.

"Jessie," she ordered, keeping her voice low, steady and authoratative, "Do not touch me. Don't move," she hissed.

Overwhelmed by the sheer and unimaginable agony of the procedure, Jessie was still able to stop herself with her hand just resting on the sleeve of Charlotte's white lab coat. Even wracked with pain, Jessie still had the muscular control to keep the weight of her arm off of Charlotte's. She was holding her arm up and off Charlotte.

Charlotte was amazed that even with the shaking, which was uncontrollable, Jessie had remained as motionless as possible. If it'd been Charlotte, she'd have been running away by now.

She thought of the patients she'd seen do just that. Literally leap off the table, grab their clothes and run out the door after the first needle, in much less sensitive areas.

And people think ballet dancers are weak, she mused.

The look on Jessie's face told Charlotte that she was thisclose to begging her to stop.

_Don't look at her._

Charlotte reminded herself to try to keep her eyes off the kid's face.

Charlotte pulled the needle out, and let out a breath. It was then that she realized her shoulders were up to her ears. She pushed them down.

"Let's take a little break." She sighed, wanted to slump down in the seat Addison was in, but knew that was unprofessional.

"How many more?" Jessie asked the question and the words shook like leaves.

Charlotte pitited her. She knew it was a stall tactic.

"About 16 more to go."

"Can we not?" Her voice was still able to hold a joking tone. Charlotte realized again that being argumentative or making your 'audience' unhappy was unacceptable. Even lying here being tortured, she was trying not to upset Charlotte.

_You're nuts, kid. This isn't a ballet. I didn't pay to see you dance around on bloody tip toes and look like you're not in agony. _

Charlotte played along, carefully dabbing up the blood pooled on the kid's vagina.

Wish Cooper could see this, she thought bitterly. Might shut up about what I can and can't do. Love to see him try this without cryin' like a baby, or screamin' or pukin'.

She was glaring without meaning to.

Then she saw Jessie glancing at the clock. They'd been doing this for over an hour. The needles had to be moved in very slowly, and the solution injected at a snail's pace. The slower you insert a needle, the more painful the injection. But, there was no other choice for this procedure. Sloppy work on her part and Charlotte's patient would end up like she had during Addison's crack pot procedure- unable to talk or worse.

Charlotte looked at Addison.

She noticed the other doctor looked a little green.

She looked back at Jessie, who was collecting herself, trying to slow her breathing and wiping her tears from her face, sniffling.

"Ready to get back to it?" Charlotte asked her.

Jessie's entire body slumped with the weight of her fate.

With visible effort Charlotte watched her change the expression on her face to a smile and relax the rest of her body. As if she weren't terrified. As if Charlotte were not going to spend another hour doing nothing but slowly inserting and slowly removing large needles without working pain meds from Jessie's groin.

"Sure," she smiled.

Charlotte's gaze flickered to Addison. She saw her swallowing, and realized Montgomery was most likely swallowing back vomit.

She shuddered.

"Allright Jessie," she began, knowing what was to come, "now that your body has gotten used to the amount of pain, I'm going to do the worst one now."

She looked at Jessie's eyes widening in horror. Being a woman, she could hear her thoughts, _Oh god, my clit_!

Sure enough Jessie lifted her head and looked in horror at the dot she'd allowed to be placed just above it.

Forcing a shaky smile she put a hand over the area, in a stop sign formation, without touching the skin.

Charlotte was grateful. Again, Jessie knew exactly what not to do in this situation. She knew medical protocol. By not touching the skin, it was still sterile. Plus if she had, Charlotte noted, Jessie's hand would be covered in her own blood. Charlotte couldn't wipe away the blood the large needles caused until the procedure was over.

"Maybe we can skip that one?" She smiled again.

It was begging, pleading.

Charlotte was honest with her. "Jessie, I'd like to, and I do understand. But that is the area that gives you the most pain- dead center of your pubic bone, and the most sensitive location on your entire body. But if I leave that area alone, it's just going to keep hurting, which will make everything worse.

She took a breath in, and realized with more than a little embarrassment that her voice was shaking, and she was speaking as if she were running out of oxygen.

_Way to sound professional, King._

"I don't want you to have to go through all this, only to not get that spot done, and because of that, have it undo all the good of the other injections. If that happened, you'd have to come back in and re-do this entire procedure."

Jessie was subtle, but Charlotte saw her glance at the door just then, calculating. Wondering if she could get away.

Addison rose from her chair then, and Charlotte accepted she was going to leave, not wanting to be witness to any more torture.

Instead she stepped up to Jessie and put her hands down on top of Jessie's.

Charlotte stared at her in obvious shock, yet was so grateful for the help now, she felt weak.

Addison's eyes met hers.

"Thank you," Charlotte mouthed.

"I'll just help you keep your hands still," Addison smiled at Jessie.

Jessie didn't register her. She was staring at the ceiling. She was so tense all the tendons around her neck and shoulders were sticking out.

She looks like a Cardassian, Charlotte thought.

"Just try to stay still."

Again, she slowly pushed the needle in.

Jessie screamed in agony. And when the pain didn't stop, she just kept screaming. Charlotte hoped that she'd be lucky and pass out. But knowing dancer's pension for body control, she doubted Jessie could allow herself to do that, all the while knowing that this woman young as she was, was that much in control of her own body. She had to be. She'd have had to be held down otherwise.

Charlotte felt her patient's body levitate off the exam table. She knew it was sheer pain response. Sadly the involuntary movement caused the needle to be pushed in further, only increasing the ballerina's pain.

Jessie was shaking, screaming and sobbing. Sweat soaked through her skin. The smell of perspiration, terror and blood filled Charlotte's nostrils like a musk.

"You're doing great Jessie," Charlotte spoke softly. "Just breathe."

Withdrawing the needle, she saw Addison's hands, white-knuckled, upon Jessie's hands. Jessie's hands were still laced together at her waist.

Scanning the ballerina's body, it was obvious that Jessie was almost entirely off the table. The only points of her body in contact with the table was one heel, a shoulder blade, and the side of her pelvis closest to Charlotte. Other than this, which Jessie could not help, she was motionless. And she'd moved slowly enough as to not knock Charlotte's needle out of it's position. Or, maybe she'd just gotten lucky on that point.

Thinking back on it, she realized tht Addison's knuckles were white not because she was working so hard to hold Jessie down, but because she'd been so upset she was squeezing Jessie's hands. Jessie was holding herself still.

Jessie gasped for breath, but was unable to relax her body enough to lay on the table again.

Charlotte finished the other side of Jessie's pubic bone. Then moved down to the the insertion point of Jessie's gracilis muscle where it met up with the underside of the pubis.

Charlotte was expecting this area, close to the leg, the joining of thigh and groin to be less painful.

When Jessie yelled in pain, Charlotte jumped.

Charlotte felt her face reddening in embarrassment, even though she'd said nothing about it aloud.

An hour later, Charlotte was sponging off streams of blood off her shaking patient.

Fortunately the gel precluded needing bandaids or stitches. Of course it didn't do anything for the bleeding begun by initiating the procedure.

"Allright," she smiled. "You're all done. You can clean yourself off, and leave."

Charlotte chuckled.

"When you get back to dancing, I promise you, I'll be in the front row."

She started for the door, Addison seeming in a confused daze followed her as she added over her shoulder, "and you can pay at the front desk."

Once the door closed behind them Addison pulled Charlotte aside.

"That's it?"

"That's it?" She echoed incredulous. "We been in there for almost three hours."

Addison rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to monitor her? Be certain she can stand after a procedure like that?"

Charlotte shrugged. "She'll be fine. Didn't do anything major to the muscles that affect the movement of her legs. She'll be able to walk."

"She'll be in agony," Addison corrected.

"No," she contradicted her, "already was. She'll just be in a little pain."

"I think I may need to re-think having you at the practice," she muttered.

"Uh huh," she answered unconcerned, "you do that. Then tell me who you're gonna call when one of your gyny patients needs this same procedure done. Don't tell me you'd belly up to that."

They'd made their way halfway down the hall in the opposite direction when Jessie exited the exam room.

She was white as a sheet, looked in shock, about to pass out, and could barely walk.

Addison remembered, "She didn't bring anyone with her."

Charlotte just blinked.

"She's going to have to get herself home," she explained.

Addison looked at her, mouth agape. "You're going to let her go home by herself?"

Charlotte looked at her like she was crazy. "She'll be fine," she insisted. "I'm the one that's done this procedure before," she reminded her. "I know what condition patient's are in. Besides," she added, "Jessie's takin' the bus home."

Addison turned around and headed for the front desk. "I'm calling her a cab," she announced.

"Better be payin' for it yourself," Charlotte answered before the red-headed doctor could get more than two steps away. "That girl just paid $500 for that procedure."

"Out of pocket?" Addison was shocked.

"Insurance doesn't cover procedures like this. I'd think you'd know that."


	15. Chapter 15

"Abbie, it's nice to see you again," she smiled.

"How are you doing?"

Abbie shrugged. "Fine."

"Good," she smiled again, trying to stall and hide her awkward nervousness at the same time, "good," she repeated. Truth be told she still wasn't sure entirely what to say, and was leaning towards sending her to Violet. After all, wasn't Violet the one who was good at giving bad news and making losers feel better about themselves? Not that Abbie was a loser. But Charlotte sure as hell wasn't good at nor did she feel comfortable with the touchy-feely kinda stuff this promised to turn into.

Abbie looked at her expectantly.

Charlotte slowly walked to a chair and sat down across from her patient.

"I told you to come back this week," she began, "so that we could talk."

"Yeah," Abbie prompted, clearly eager to hear Charlotte say something like, "I have a magic solution to your problems, and here it is!"

Charlotte knew that was not going to happen. So, she just told the truth.

"I spoke to a collegue of mine the other day, a doctor who does plastic surgery."

Abbie's eyes widened with interest.

Charlotte got to the disappointing part quick. "I described your situation to him, and from what he tells me, for skin conditions like yours, it would take some serious doing. As in thousands and thousands of dollars worth.

Abbie's face seemed to melt with crushed hopes. Charlotte felt truly bad for her.

"However, he's a gentleman who's been around the block a few times so I asked him point blank, as a man what would you think about being with a woman like that?"

"Do you know what he said?"

Abbie's face said as clearly as words "a damn lie. Crap I've hear a million times before. It's what's inside that counts.

Charlotte didn't blame her for being pissed, but continued nonetheless- hell what else could she do? She wasn't Annie Sullivan, she didn't work damn miracles.

"He said, "'Any woman who is intelligent, who can spark my interest, not just keep up her end of the conversation but intrigues me with new perspectives, ideas and questions? That's the kind of woman I want. I like my women femanine but strong. What's more feminine than stretch-marks? It says a body's been somewhere. It's grown. What's more feminine than something every woman has? It's a transition from girlhood to womanhood."

Charlotte laughed as she said, "And then he said, "If her stretch marks go the way I imagine they do, it'd be kinda awesome. Use it to advantage. People spend tons getting tatoo'd, she's already set."

"He seemed to think it was pretty cool. He understood why you'd be concerned, but as a man who's seen a good share of stretch marks and other skin issues, if he doesn't think it's a big deal, you shouldn't either."

"And like he was saying, do you really want to be with a man who only finds appeal in your looks? Looks fade, but intrigue doesn't."

Abbie still looked depressed about this, and like she was trying to hide the pissed-offness behind it.

"If it makes you feel any better, skinny butt ballerinas have cellulite and stretch-marks." She loved that she'd thought to ask Jessie that when she'd followed up with her. Jessie'd laughed and said, "Well, we stretch a lot, don't we?" That was all the scientific reasoning she'd needed, and obviously didn't feel at all uncomfortable about it, it seemed more like a badge of honor, like bleeding toes and pointe shoes.

"So," Abbie sighed, "there's nothing I can do."

Did I not just speak and outline her options?

"Not unless you want to empty your pockets."

She sighed again.

"Crap."

Charlotte shrugged. Pretty much.

What Abbie'd said on her first visit suddenly sprung to mind.

"Whatever you think about yourself, you're not ugly."

She could be both adament and confident on that point. Skin aside, Abbie was a catch.

"Medically speaking," she added, quoting Abbie's words, "you're hot, kid. You just don't realize how good you look because your self-esteem is getting' in the way."

And that's when it hit her. Admittedly it bummed her out that she couldn't solve Abbie's perceived problem and make her feel awesome. And perhaps selfishly as well the truth that jumped out at her made her feel like she'd failed.

"I'm going to refer you to our psychiatist Dr. Violet Turner. I think once you get your head straight, see yourself how others see you, things'll be just fine for you."

Then she physically braced herself. She knew how she'd react if someone sent her to a crack-pot doctor. _Damn Wilder_.

Abbie just smiled. "Okay."

Charlotte was stunned.

_Well that was easy._

This may be one of the most stripped down, bare chapters I've ever written. I thought about going back and adding more detail, but I like it this way. It's kinda refreshing.

Oh sorry forgot to add- The ballerina whose story Jessie's is lightly based on read it and said and I quote "you made what I went through look like a walk in the park you lazy bum. But, and I've said this often and you couldn't put it in without changing the POV, the very very worst part for me was that I was alone. Worse than the pain was well immediately I wanted to scream for a good friend of mine. Because you need help to support you through that much agony. But, no one was there for me. Such is the life of a dancer. Real friends in the dance world are almost impossible to find. But I have loads of fake friends. If I were to write the chapter...I don't know I might kill your readers."

If you want to read her blog it's on blogger. Type in deviant dancer and I think you should be able to find it. Let me know if you do find it, for sure. If I'm wrong I'll try to pop back in and correct it. PS be warned, in real life the dancer who is Jessie did not need this procedure done because of a dance injury. When you read your blog you'll find out more. It's all about her journey trying to reclaim her body and get back to dancing. Sadly, as I last emailed her that's not the case. Poor thing.


	16. Chapter 16

"Charlotte, I'm really impressed with you."

Immediately, sensing no good coming from the voice behind her, Charlotte put her yogurt cup down.

Charlotte sneered at the tone in Violet's voice.

"What?" She knew she shouldn't ask, she should just walk away, leave the idea of breakfast entirely, but she couldn't help herself.

Violet smiled that sickeningly smile that made Charlotte want to punch her. The sickly sweet, condesending smile.

"You admited that you couldn't fully help Abbie."

Charlotte sighed aloud. _Oh Lord._

"So?"

"Admitting that you can't fix everything, that you don't have all the answers? That's a really big deal." She grinned again. " I'm proud of you."

_That's it._

Charlotte shoved past her, focusing on the door.

"It takes a lot of strength to admit that you need help, and it's very un-selfish to put your own ego aside if it means giving someone all the help that they need."

"No one can do everything all by themselves."

"I don't need you to be proud of me," she snapped, turning back in the threshold. "And don't you even think of lording this over me. You're one sick puppy, you know that?"

Violet just chuckled.

She slammed the door to her office. Thankfully the shades were always drawn, so she didn't have to bother.

She threw her purse across the room. Then she began violently straightening up her already straightend up space.

_I can't stand Violet!_

"Tell me I can't help my patients," she grumbled.

"Who the hell does she think she is?"

"Sexology gets to the root of the problem, no amount o' jaw-bonin' will do that. I can ask questions and say things to my patients that'd make Violet turn violet with embarrassment. Some professional," she scoffed.

"That'll be the last time I even think of sending a patient to that nut-job."

"Hey!"

Charlotte snapped around, body tensed in shock. When she saw it was only Cooper, she let out a breath, gasping slightly. Her shoulders relaxed immediately.

"She's not a nut-job, Charlotte," he finished, "and you know it."

Then realizing how much he'd startled her, he quickly apologized.

"Sorry," he whispered, "didn't mean to scare you." He said the words softly and looked away as a means of respecting her pride.

"Didn't scare me," she lied, holding her chin up high in defiance.

He smiled and nodded. She wanted to slap that look off his face.

"So you think you're better than me too?"

Cooper was confused. "What?"

"The face you're lookin' at me with right now, that sappy smile. That condesending, I'll be gentle and nice to Charlotte even though she's so stupid she doesn't realize I know she's lyin' look."

"You think you freaked me out cuz I got raped."

Cooper was physically taken aback. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard her say the words.

"Uh...um...n-no. No. That's not-"

"Whatever."

"Violet tell you she's shrinking my patient?"

He just nodded, afraid that any words he said would be wrong.

Charlotte huffed in disgust and plopped herself down on her couch, arms crossed over her chest.

After several moments of tense silence, Cooper tried again.

"Don't be angry that you couldn't help her, Charlotte."

"Don't be angry?" Couldn't help her? Who said I couldn't help her? Who said I didn't help her?"

"That's not...what I meant."

"That's what you said!"

" I just meant-"

"If you can't say what you mean, I don't wanna hear it. And considering the crap you said yourself about this girl- just can it."

"That was before I knew she was your patient."

"Like that makes a difference!" Cooper that was just damn heartless of you. Cold. No one takes your physical imperfections and holds them up like that. Yet you were all set to rip this poor girl apart."

"Char," he was hurt. But he had said what he'd said. There was no denying it or taking it back.

She looked him dead in the eye, and her eyes were cold.

"Truth hurts, don't it?"

He shrugged and looked down at the floor. That was the gist of it.

"You were in the wrong," she reminded him, "not me."

"But aren't you glad she's getting the help she needs? Or did you really think she didn't need therapy?"

Charlotte felt weighted down.

"She's not crazy."

It felt like she was defending herself. Like this was personal somehow.

Cooper's voice was gentle as he answered, "Of course not. Having low self-esteem doesn't mean you're nuts."

Suddenly Charlotte wondered if her own low self esteem had been found out. That all her strong words and posturing was a front? Nah.

"So she needed help, okay? It's not my job to hand hold people and get to the root of their emotional problems. It's not my job to make that girl feel good about herself again, or to figure out why she can't to begin with."

"You're right. It's not," he agreed. "That's Violet's job."

"Just like it's not her job to examine patients physically, or to figure out what's wrong with them physically. That's why when Violet has a patient who presents with sexual problems, she first sends them to you to get them physically checked out."

"And," he added, "depending on that patient's point of view, Violet may not get that patient back, at least not to address sexual problems. Sometimes they agree with you that it's purely a physical thing, or that what you can do for them is better than what talking with Violet can do."

Charlotte scoffed. "It is."

Cooper knew full well Charlotte's view on sexual dysfunction steming from physiology as opposed to physcology.

"So, if Violet is able to help this patient with her self- image, then you have done your job. You helped that girl. Sending her to Violet is helping her. Just because you're not the one in the room with her anymore, doesn't make what you've done for her any less. Instead of thinking that since you couldn't fix her then no one could- which, I don't need to tell you just how many doctors do feel that way, and let their ego get in the way of patient care, you realized your professional limitations and sent this girl to someone who could be better suited to help her."

"That," he smiled, "Dr. King, is a great doctor."

He bent down for a kiss, but Charlotte shied away.

"Act like I don't know I'm great."

But she was smiling, and that made Cooper smile.


	17. Chapter 17

"Where're you going?"

Charlotte looked at him like he was crazy, crazy to ask, or both.

"Work," she answered now looking at him and saying with her eyes only 'as if it's any of your business'.

"But it's Saturday."

"And? You think illness, pestulence and disease take weekends off?" She slung her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her keys from the bowl on the side table.

"I'll be back later."

Everything Charlotte King told Cooper Freedman was true. But it was like a paper with cut-outs in it- she didn't tell him the whole truth. Nowhere near. Charlotte was going to work, she was going to fulfill what was a part of her training as a sexologist. But she was also going to do what other doctors would not do, possibly because it was viewed as illegal, or shocking. But, the way she saw it, Charlotte was willing to go the extra mile.

She stopped off at the hospital, and even ran by the practice, not only to 'cover her tracks' but to be truthful. If Cooper asked, the staff could say that they'd seen her. This wouldn't take long anyway, and if it were for the puritanical views that still gripped most of the US by the ball-sack, how she was doing her job wouldn't make a damn bit of difference.

Violet wasn't helping Abigail. She knew this because Abby'd made another appointment with her and told her so. She also told her things she didn't feel comfortable telling Violet, but because Charlotte was Charlotte, she felt comfortable telling was clear that no amount of talk was going to help this woman.

Charlotte was neither ashamed nor afraid. After several Charlotte-styled shrink talk with her, Charlotte had her tested for every STD under the sun. She told her patient it was a wise idea, considering she'd been sexually abused as a child. Many STDs can lie dormant for years, and if one isn't sexually active at the moment, the symptoms of an STD can be brushed aside as something else, depending upon the particular STD, of course.

"Hooker my ass," she muttered glaring at the steering wheel, repeating the jack-ass judgments of Cooper Freedman. She put the car in park and cut the engine off.

"Time to go to work," she announced to no one, as no one was in the car with her. She popped the trunk, stepped out of the car and into the dark parking garage. A few quick steps and a shove and she had her travel bag out of the trunk. She let the lid of the trunk slam down with a confident push, then head held high, and high heels clacking the way, Charlotte headed to work.

Okay, I left off on a bit of a cliff-hanger, but there's good reason for it. Now, if you've gotten this far reading, it's time to review! What do you think is going on? And yes, I've been reluctant to address how Charlotte's rape affected her sexology work- but I will get to that in upcoming chapters. Now, review, good readers. Many of you are reading, but far far too few of you are reviewing.


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